The Way to Recovery
by Lirulin
Summary: From the White Witch to the battle at the How and beyond: The way of two brothers towards reconciliation and a healed relationship. Chapter 8: The epilogue. Peter muses on everything that has happened and looks to the future. PC-MOVIEVERSE
1. Love Hopes and Endures all Things

**The Way to Recovery**

_by Lirulin_

**Disclaimer: **Nothing belongs to me, it's all property of C.S. Lewis and Disney. I also do not make any money with it.

**Author's Notes:** This is for **SentimentalStar** who put the idea for the story into my head so that I just had to write it. It follows my other two stories _Resilient Fealty_ and_ Razors to My Heart_, so please read those as well. :)

I also dedicate the story to my granddad who would have been 104 the day before yesterday and whom I still miss after twelve years.

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**Chapter One  
****Love ****Hopes and Endures all Things**

I don't know where Peter is at the moment, and frankly, I'm not even sure if I care. Last night has to have been one of the most horrible battles I have ever experienced, and I need to be alone now before I either break down completely and turn into a sobbing mess or become so furious that I kick Peter through the wall. Neither option sounds too thrilling.

Did I think things could not get worse? Did I think our relationship had alread hit its all-time low? Well, I have just learned that as long as you can say, "This is the worst", it most certainly can and will get still worse. He couldn't even look me in the eye!

So I now have retreated to one of these numerous small caves to be alone and to get my bearings. The raid was total failure, we lost so many, and the sight of them massacred in the courtyard will haunt me for a very long time. I am not even totally sure what went wrong. Caspian simply stormed off after Peter nearly attacked him, Susan has disappeared as well, and it's of course out of the question that I talk to Peter.

I am truly and honestly confused, and all I know is that it wasn't _Peter_ fighting down there in the castle. It hurts to realise that even his fighting style has changed so much that I no longer recognise it. He has never been this uncoordinated and random before, just slashing straight straight on, seemingly without analysing what he's doing. If I previously thought I didn't understand him, he has now become a riddle wrapped up in an enigma for me.

I'm not renouncing my decison from yesterday, I'll still follow him, and I'll love him always, but at the moment I would like to shake him and pound some sense into him. What is going on inside his head, what did he want to accomplish with this rash, carelessly planned battle? I don't think we have ever had a council of war that was shorter than the one yesterday afternoon.

Somehow it appeared as if he was dying to do something, to rush out, to prove himself. But... that's stupid! Why would he need to prove himself? He knows we stand behind him always, doesn't he? And anyway, Aslan himself made him High King, so there is no reason for him to verify his position in any way. But as I don't know what's going on in him anymore, I have no way of knowing what he thinks and how he reasons with himself.

It's so frustrating, I should be there for him, if only to argue with him, but he won't let me. And I can't force him of course, that would only hurt us both more...

There is a commotion outside, and suddenly Trufflehunter barges in, completely out of breath.

"Sire, you have to come with all haste. There is something happening in the chamber of the Stone Table."

I get up and sprint into the tunnel system, fear coursing through me. What more could go wrong? Have we not suffered enough already? Why do I have to be right in saying it can always get worse? I only hope it's not Peter and Caspian dueling. That would simply be too much...

But no, there he is, coming with Trumpkin from the other end of the corridor. I try to catch his eye, but he refuses to look at me; face tense and Rhindon in hand he rushes into the chamber. I shake my head, pushing the hurt to the back of my mind and draw my sword as well, following Peter as always...

And I stop dead in my tracks. My fear dissolves in a wave of fury. What is _she_ doing here?! How dare she intrude on our lives again?! A glance around the chamber tells me all I need to know. There's Caspian, standing inside a glowing magic circle drawn on the ground, hand stretched out and a glazed expression in his eyes. And then there are a hag, a werewolf and Nikabrik. I did not like him from the beginning. He had the look of someone who dabbled in dangerous things.

It's obvious what they are trying to do, and it's also clear that we will prevent it. Peter is already charging the hag, and the werewolf has picked me as its target, so no time to gather my thoughts.

My battle is short and fast, before I know it, it's already over, the werewolf lying dead at my feet. I will never understand creatures such as them. What did they wish to accomplish? Aslan defeated and killed the Witch, and as surely as I know that the sun rises every morning, I am certain that she would not be able to harm us anymore because He is the victor.

I look around the cave to assess our situation and to see if everyone is alright... and my heart almost stops. Peter is standing there, in front of the White Witch, not doing anything, just staring at her. I can guess what she is doing, having experienced it first-hand. I'm aware of her powers of temptation, but it seems as if Peter is not and can't resist her.

Whatever he may say, he now needs me more than ever. When he is weak, I can be strong, and when he falls, I can help him up again. I once read somewhere, "Bear ye one another's burdens", and it seems to fit to the situation at hand. It really sounds like something Aslan would say, and I suddenly know what I have to do.

I run up the stairs to the dais, around the columns to the back of the icewall. It shimmers faintly and looks quite serene, as if it was not in the least bit evil, but I know the truth. When you've fallen to temptation once, you will be able to recognise it much better the next time. And I thank Aslan on my knees that he saved me, so that I can now be there for Peter and fight for him.

I raise my sword and plunge it straight into the ice, through her back.

A wave of power ripples over me, a silent scream echoes through my mind, and in my soul I hear a faint roar. A feeling of warmth and love envelops me, and then the ice cracks and shatters to the ground.

I see Peter, sword lowered to the ground, staring up at me in abject shock and terror. I look into his eyes, and suddenly it's as if a veil is drawn back. For the first time in a year I can see what's inside of him. There is so much insecurity and longing and sorrow and guilt and helplessness and fear that it is almost painful to watch, but I won't turn away now because I at least begin to understand.

There are finally the first inklings of the true reasons _why_ my Peter diappeared a year ago. A spark of hope starts to glimmer in my heart, perhaps there is a chance for reconciliation, given time and patience.

We are still staring at each other, but then his face crumbles a bit, a tell-tale sign that he's holding back tears, and I know I have to get out for now. The whole situation is somewhat overwhelming, and I really am not in the mood to make a scene here in front of everyone. That's something between me and Peter alone, and we have to sort this out in private. I mumble something, I'm not even sure what. I know my mind is good at improvising, I've probably just repeated a phrase someone has said in the last few days and that has stuck in my mind.

Then I leave the chamber, retreating to my small cave again. Who would have thought that thirty minutes can give you a completely new outlook? I can feel a smile creeping up on my face. Now we just have to win this war, and then I'll sit Peter down for a good long talk. He _will_ tell me what was going on, what truly made him behave like he did, even if I have to bind him to one of the many columns here to get him to stay still.

After seeing what I just did in him, I'll not back down anymore. Now that I can hope once more, I will move heaven and earth if I have to, to finally get my Peter back.

TBC

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So, I hope you liked it. Please let me know what you think about the story.


	2. Through Temptation to the Crown of Life

**Disclaimer: **See chapter one, it still applies.

**Author's Note: **So, here is the same scene as before, but now from Peter's point of view. I believe my interpretation of the scene is slightly different, and I'm curious if you will like it. You will notice that I am deviating from the movie in the end, I hope you're alright with that. But now enough from me. Enjoy!

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**Chapter Two  
****Through Temptation to the Crown of Life**

Edmund has disappeared to who knows where as soon as Trumpkin was healed, so I am now left alone with my two sisters. Lucy is sitting on the ground next to me, trying to console me, but I barely hear her. Susan glares at me from time to time, otherwise she is pacing up and down the length of the chamber we are in. I am glad she does not try talking to or lecturing me, I couldn't stand either.

I wanted to make plans, discuss or next steps, I had even vowed to myself to try and listen to what Caspian might have to say, but the prince is gone as well. Why does everyone seem to disappear? Well, I do understand Edmund, considering everything I have done and the hurt I have inflicted on him I wouldn't want to look at me either.

But there is still the enemy to be fought and as much as I am afraid to take a wrong step again, there are decisions to be made. I have to do the best I am capable of – which is most likely not much. However, as long as no one is there, I am forced to idleness which is just now absolutely horrible for me. If I had something to do, strategies to devise and armies to position, I could distract myself from my thoughts. I do not want to think anymore, it is pure agony...

Perhaps luck is with me for once because I suddenly hear rapid footsteps approaching, and then Trumpkin bursts through the opening of the chamber.

"Your majesty! You better come quickly! We have major trouble in the chamber of the Stone Table."

Before he has finished talking I am already running out into the corridors, Rhindon drawn. I don't care what is going on, it does not matter at all. There is something to do, I can act at last. I see Edmund sprinting towards me from the other end of the corridor, but I don't look at him. Too much of what I am feeling at present is connected to him, and I cannot... I don't want to deal with that now.

So I get on ahead of him, running into the chamber of the Stone Table... and I pause in confusion. There is Caspian, standing stock-still with his hand outstretched, Nikabrik, a werewolf and a hag surrounding him. And there is _she_, the White Witch. What is going on? What is she doing here? Panic seizes me. She is supposed to be dead! This cannot be happening. Aslan killed her, didn't he?

Then the hag is attacking me, and my instincts take over. Before I know it the fight is over and I look to Caspian. What is the idiot doing? He is getting closer to her, hand still outstretched, and I now see the blood dripping from it. So _that_ is what she wants. But not while I am here!

I run over to where they are, pushing Caspian out of the way and raising my sword. She will not come back as long as I draw breath. I will not allow her to spread her winter again and enslave the people while I am High King of Narnia. Who does she think she is anyway, trying to take Narnia away from me... us.

"Peter dear. I've missed you."

I blink in confusion. The last time I saw her she tried to kill me, _I_ definitely did not miss her. I wonder if this is how she talked to Edmund. If so, then I can finally understand why he gave in to her, she does have a beguiling voice...

She talks about giving her just one drop of my blood, but she shouldn't waste her persuasion tactics on me. It is of course out of the question that I do anything of the sort....

"You know you can't do this alone."

And she has me there, has pointed her finger directly to the wound. I have seen what comes of it when I try doing things on my own – death and failure. So... But there is Aslan. _He_ will help...

Suddenly I hear a cold, mocking voice in my mind. _'Do you really think so? Do you think you're even worthy of his help?'_ I reel back as if struck. Rhindon feels like lead in my hand all of a sudden. Worthy? No, certainly not, I have failed too often, have done too much wrong, but surely he would...

'_You have forgotten Aslan. You have acted wilfully and arrogantly__, not asking about his will. You have heaped shame and guilt upon you. Why should he still care for you? Why should he help you? You have done nothing to please him. You are unworthy of perceiving him, and much less so of begging him for anything.'_

An icy hand seems to clasp my heart and squeezes painfully. The voice is right. I cannot ask Aslan for help, I am a disappointment, a failure, He probably does not want to have to do anything with me now. And that is perfectly understandable, I deserve neither His love nor his support. But then... what can I do? The Witch is right in this one point, that I will not manage to defeat Miraz's army alone.

The voice is there again, softer now, but still mocking. _'Fool! Do you think the Witch is still a threat to you? Have you forgotten that Aslan killed her? She has lost everything but the barest threads of power. Use these to save Narnia, and afterwards it will be easy to seal her again.'_

I feel Rhindon sink to the ground. Perhaps this is the solution. It is true, she cannot be that powerful anymore, and it should be no problem to dispose of her again once Miraz is destroyed...

All of a sudden, a scream rips through my mind, a stab of pain shoots throug my head, and I hear the voice once more, but now so menacing and so otherworldly horrible that it shakes me to the core. _'I will get you one day.'_

Then it is gone and I feel as if I have just awoken from dream or a trance. For a short moment I see the ice, the witch and the tip of a sword protruding from her midsection, then there is a loud crack, and the wall tumbles to the ground in great chunks. I look up in shock, and there is Edmund, breathing heavily.

Everything comes crashing down on me. What have I done? No, what did I almost do? I nearly freed our worst enemy. Am I not guilty enough already? How many more times must I fail till I break completely? The tight rein I have had on my innermost emotions slips, and everything just comes up and pours out.

Edmund must notice it because his eyes widen slightly, and I can see compassion, understanding and something deeper that I am afraid to name flooding his gaze. Something more than the ice seems to crack, and I suddenly have the feeling that I can perhaps still get back to my brother. I don't know how, but maybe... maybe there could be a way. I know that my tears threaten to fall, and I am waiting for him to react somehow. But then he turns away.

"I know, you had it sorted."

My heart breaks anew. I cannot have imagined it, there _was_ a connection again. I can only follow him with my eyes as he leaves the chamber. I am lost once more, lost to my shame and my self-hate. I notice things going on around me, the bodies are removed, Susan storms out, and Caspian Trumpkin and Lucy leave as well. But I am numb. It is again as if I am detached from myself, as if I am watching this person from the outside.

Finally, I am alone. I sink down onto the stone steps in front of the table and gaze at the relief of Aslan on the voice's words come to mind again. I am unworthy of being in his presence, of seeing him. I close my eyes in shame, wanting to disappear from the face of the earth, and when I open them again I have to blink several times. I am sure the relief has just moved...

And then I hear another voice, a voice that I know very well and that is love personified.

"Peter."

Just this one word causes me to swallow heavily, and a few tears trickle down my cheeks.

"Aslan?"

I sound so incredibly weak, it is really pathetic.

"Peter, what happened to you, my child?"

It is as if the last dam inside of me breaks, and I am sobbing uncontrollably. Everything rushes out of me in a great stream, I cannot conrol all that I am feeling and experiencing anymore.

"Oh Aslan! What... Where have you been? Why... why couldn't I see you? I... we needed you so much! I am so sorry, I have done everything wrong. You shouldn't be here talking to me no, I'm the worst person in the world! Have you seen what I've done?! I'm not me, and... and I don't know... "

It is a wonder he understands my stammering, but he truly seems to see my meanings.

"Peter, I was right beside you. Every step of the way."

I gape at him. But then...

"Why didn't you show yourself to me? I was so desperate... I was lost, I didn't know what to do... If you've seen what I've done... I as good as killed them! Why didn't you tell me what to do?!"

I hear a faint rumble and know he is not that well pleased with me. No wonder...

"You have to learn to trust me without seeing me and without understanding my plans. You have known me for many years, Peter. Did you truly not know how I would want you to act?"

I lower my eyes. He is right. I was so caught up in self-pity and anger and obstinacy that I forgot everything I had ever learned here in Narnia. Now I see that He was really there the whole time. It was me who was too blind to realise it. I feel completely wretched. My impetuous desire to be in control, my arrogant belief that I knew best has almost ruined and destroyed everything. The tears continue to fall, and my previous thoughts come back to me.

"How can you stand to look at me? How can you still care about me? I have failed you and everyone else! Everything that happened is my fault!"

The rumble turns into a purr, and His voice is suddenly extremely gentle, laying a soothing balm over my fractured soul.

"Peter, I am sad about what has happened, but nothing can and will ever make me love you less."

I can barely grasp what he is saying, but somehow every fibre of my being tells me it is the truth. Perhaps I can ask him the question I did not even dare think before. I was sure I was lost forever, a total failure, but maybe...

"Aslan... please, can I ... I mean, can I reverse things, can I make it right again? Can ... can you forgive me?"

The stony yet alive face on the wall smiles at me tenderly.

"You cannot undo what is already in the past, child. You can only accept what has happened, ask for forgiveness and then begin to heal. If you truly regret your errors, forgiveness will never be far away from you."

Hope stirs within me. Even if I cannot turn back the clock, perhaps I can free myself of the crushing guilt I am feeling all the time. I fall down on my knees in front of the mural and confess everything to him.

"I do! Aslan, I so regret what I did. I am so sorry for disregarding you, for hurting everyone around me and for not stopping to listen to anyone. I so regret my arrogance and my belief that I alone know what is the best and what is right and wrong. And I am sorry for my rage at you and the people who only wanted to help me, and for doubting you. Please Aslan... please forgive me."

I feel relieved now. Finally everything is out in the open, I do not have to hide my faults anymore because He knows me anyway. He is silent for a moment, and when He speaks again His voice seems to reach into the darkest parts of me, uncovering and cleansing them.

"I forgive you, my beloved child. Your guilt is taken from you and thrown into the depths of the ocean. No one is allowed to accuse you any longer, not even yourself. And now rise, Peter, High King of Narnia, and once again take what is your rightful place."

A rush of warmth and love engulfs me, and I feel my perspective set straight again. I am finally returned to the right way. I can see clearly, and an enormous weight is lifted off of my shoulders. I am free, I am no failure. I came to wrong decisions, and terrible things happened, yes. But I can learn from them and look to the future. And because Aslan has forgiven me, I will be able to forgive myself as well – in time.

I look up to the relief once more, wanting to thank Him from the bottom of my heart. I do not find the right words, but He understands me. For a moment His shining, golden eyes regard me with pride and a wide, all-encompassing affection, then, in the blink of an eye, the mural becomes still again.

Nevertheless, I do not feel alone any longer, there is a new sense of belonging, of strength and purpose within me. The true work starts now, and I am prepared to tackle it with hope and courage. There are a lot of people I will have to talk to, to apologise to. My behaviour has almost destroyed all of my relationships, and I am determined to repair and heal them, no matter what it takes.

Edmund's face appears before my mind's eye. He is the one I hurt most because he was closest to me. I need his forgiveness almost as much as I needed Aslan's. As soon as this war is over I will talk to him, and I will give everything I have to gain his pardon.

I hope and pray that I will be able to mend our relationship. I do not want to lose him ever again because he truthfully is the most important person in the world to me.

TBC

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While watching the movie, I felt that Peter couldn't simply change like that. I believe that he needs a talk with Aslan and that he needs His forgiveness. That's why I changed the scene from the movie. Please tell me what you think about it!


	3. Kings going to War

**Disclaimer: **See chapter one. If I owned them, Edmund would definitely get more screentime in the movie.

**Author's Notes: **First of all: I'm sorry that it took me so long to update. There was Christmas and presents to buy, then I was visiting my cousin in Berlin and then I was ill. But the chapter is longer, as a small apology. Then: Thanks to my wonderful reviewers! I love you all and I'm glad you like the story! Of course, thanks also to those who favourited (is that a word?!) my story and have put it on their alert list, even if they haven't reviewed. *hint* :)

You will notice that this chapter is a mix of movieverse, bookverse and my own artistic license. Some lines are taken directly from the movie, some from Chapter 13 of the book, _The High King in Command_. But now enough from me and my ramblings. On to the story!

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**Chapter T****hree  
****Kings going to War**

_Edmund_

My respite is clearly not to be a long one because I can again hear steps approaching "my" little cave, as I have come to call it. People are really too hectic these days, one barely has the time to think things through...

It's Caspian and I can't help wondering what went wrong now. I don't want to sound like a marshwiggle, but the last few days have not exactly been all sunshine and daisies. Perhaps Caspian is now bringing the icing for our double-decked cake. Perhaps the Ettin Giants have decided to join forces with Miraz... But no, not even they can possibly be that stupid.

However despite what may come, I don't feel like giving up my considerably lightened mood. I can at last see a silver lining on the dark horizon that is my relationship to Peter.

"Edmund, the Telmarines are here, in numbers far greater than we expected. Could you... would you... would you go and inform your brother? Please?"

So, he is a bit afraid of Peter, isn't he? I can't say I'm surprised, the events of the past two hours must have been quite traumatic for him as well. I simply nod and make my way to where I suspect to find him..

And I am right, he's still in the chamber of the Stone Table, sitting on the ground and gazing at the relief of Aslan on the wall. I can't really put my finger on it, but something about him seems different. He appears... calmer and somehow more... yes, 'balanced' is the word. It seems almost as if someone or something has shaken all the anger out of him. I'm about to ask what has happened in such a short time when what I like to call my voice of duty pipes to remind me that we still have a war to fight here, and that we propably have major problems on our hands at the moment.

"Pete? You better come quickly."

He glances at me, and in the instance before he gets up I notice that his eyes are different as well, they hold a self-confidence that was missing previously and are somehow much clearer...

And then we are hurrying through the corridors, coming out onto the ledge overlooking the open plain before the How and the forest. The sight that meets us is not exactly reassuring. Battalions of soldiers, cavalry and infantry, and huge war-machines on top of that are pouring out of the woods. We need to hold a council of war, and quickly.

Peter and Caspian recognise this need as well, and only ten minutes later we are again in one of the How's numerous chambers, listening to Peter detailing his plans. It's hard to believe my own eyes and ears, and I want to know what has transpired at the Stone Table more than anything. Because that is definitely my Peter standing over there, proclaiming that sending Lucy to Aslan is our only chance. That is the self-assured High King I know who carefully deliberates our options and patiently explains his reasoning. It's almost too good to be true, I just hope this is not a dream, with me waking up any moment. I couldn't bear it...

Trumpkin seems to have been overruled, it's truly touching how attached he has become to Lucy. But I can't deny I'm glad that Susan will accompany her. I mean, anything could happen to them. There are so many soldiers out there that it would be a miracle if they were _not_ spotted. At least Susan is able to defend herself and Lucy with her bow. Peter nods his consent, he sees the prudence of it as well as I do.

"We have to hold them off until Lucy and Susan get back."

Well, Peter is right with this statement, but how do we do that? We can't exactly send them an invitation to tea now, can we? But then an idea starts forming in my mind... Peter turns to me, most likely seeking my opinion, and a look passes between us that we have exchanged countless times in the past and that I have sorely missed in the last year. It's the look that conveys all our thoughts to the other, and in this instant we know clearly what is going through the other's mind. I nod at him, and Peter returns his gaze to the rest of our friends and allies, squaring his shoulders.

"I will send Miraz a challenge to a single combat."

It is not what I would've wished to happen, but it is the only way I can see to buy us some time. A challenge will have to be delivered, there will be heralds exchanged between the camps, the masters of the lists will check the battleground and so forth. I only hope it will be enough...

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_Peter_

I do not think I yet fully comprehend the changes in me. It feels as if Aslan has turned me inside out, has made me completely new...

We are in one of the underground chambers, discussing how to face this almost invincible-seeming threat, and it is such an indescribably wonderful feeling to see clearly again, to be able to truly listen to others again without immeatiately becoming furious and viewing everything as a personal insult. I believe Edmund noticed something as well because when he came to get me earlier he looked as if he had seen a ghost. It is frustrating that we do not have the leisure to sort things out, but he and I both know that Narnia comes first, always.

My course of action is clear to me, Lucy has to go to Aslan. He already wanted her to follow Him when she saw Him for the first time, and I am now convinced that it is still His will for Lucy to come to him. I have found my trust in Him again, and I believe in His help with all that I am. Yet I also have the feeling that he wants to be _asked_ for help. A phrase I have read somewhere a long time ago comes to my mind: _Ask__, and it shall be given you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you._ It seems to describe our situation accurately. We have to seek Him, and we have to ask.

I should have known that Trumpkin would object, I have discovered that he can be as obnoxious as Edmund, and he has taken such a shine to Lucy. It is also not helping that he does not believe in Aslan, so he cannot understand that no harm will come to her. I know I could simply overrule him, but I am grateful when Trufflehunter backs me up, and Trumpkin relents. Badgers are wise animals, never rash to act, and while I am sure that I am doing the right thing, I will not forget my misjudgements of the past year in a hurry. Therefore it is reassuring to have his support.

Now we need time, the only thing in short supply here. An idea swiftly forms in my head, and I glance at Edmund. Does he know what I am thinking? He could once read me like an open book. Is it still there, our connection? And I need his approval, I need him by my side and at my back...

My heart is in my throat, and when I see the small smile flitting around the corners of his mouth and the nod of his head I breathe a quiet sigh of relief. It _is _still there, he does understand what I am thinking because I can perceive the same idea in his eyes. And he is still there for me, he has not abandoned me, he is still willing to support me which is even more important. I truly do not know what I have done to deserve a brother such as Edmund.

The others are not particularly happy with my decision, but as no one has a better idea to get us some time, one after the other agrees with me. Susan and Lucy leave soon after with Caspian to ready their horse, and Trumpkin stumps after them, mumbling something about fools' errands and non-existing creatures. Trufflehunter looks from me to Edmund as if he knows something we do not.

Now it is important to focus, to take one step after the other, and I have an exact plan of what I want to do next.

"Edmund? Will you help me write the challenge? You have always been our diplomat after all. And you have a way with words we could never rival."

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_Edmund_

I look at him in astonishment. He truly wants my help! Peter couldn't have given me a greater present. I'm sure this is the first step back to what we used to be. I simply nod, and he smiles slightly. I'm glad that the others retreat discreetly after Glenstorm has brought us some parchments, quill and ink, and I believe Trufflehunter has something to do with this. He knows more than he lets on, and he probably realised that I needed this time alone with my brother.

Peter takes the quill and regards me expectantly. I can't help the grin that spreads across my face.

"Well, Peter, let's begin. I trust you still know how to start an offer of single combat."

He shoots me an impish smile and dips the quill into the ink.

"Of course I do. I've not forgotten everything, you know. So, _We, Peter, by the gift of Aslan, by election, by prescription and by conquest, High King of Narnia, Lord...._"

But I already have to interrupt him there.

"Haven't you forgotten something, Peter? If you have to do this, then do it the right way. You know it's _High King over all Kings in Narnia _."

He falters, his clear blue eyes full of uncertainty and regret.

"Do you really think...?"

I just point to the parchment, and he finally writes it down with a sigh. No matter what has happened, I will not allow him to demean himself, especially not in the face of a mad megalomaniac like this Miraz. It's to him that the challenge will be read after all. And anyway, it's the truth. That is what he has always been to me.

"Well, if you insist... _High King over all Kings in Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel, Emperor of the Lone Islands and Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion do herewith propose... _No, that does not sound right."

Peter scratches his head and then starts nibbling on the end of the quill, as always does when he is stuck while writing a missive.

"How about stating your reasons for challenging him first, Peter? Something like _in order to prevent the spilling of innocent blood...._"

But I don't like that either. Those challenges can be tricky to write, and I have to admit I'm a bit out of practice. I start pacing around the chamber, contemplating various words and phrases, while Peter's eyes follow me attentively. It's flattering that he relies on me to find the right expressions, but that also hightens the pressure to do it perfectly. I try to remember the documents we used to write during our reign, and the style finally comes back to me. I whirl around and stab my finger at Peter.

"I have it! Write _in order to prevent the abominable effusion of blood, and to avoid all other inconveniences likely to grow from the war now levied in our realm of Narnia, do hereby challenge, provoke and... _provoke and... We need a third. You always take three, do you remember? For balance. So... Yes! Defy! _challenge, provoke and defy the usurper Miraz to single combat upon the field of battle _"

The quill practically flies over the parchment, and Peter is chuckling while he writes my sentences down.

"Only you manage to say such a simple thing with so many big words, Edmund. But... do you think instead of 'the usurper Miraz', I could write 'Miraz, who now styles himself King of Narnia'? Or would that be too impudent?"

I must have gaped at him pretty stupidly because he only laughs harder. That's quite an insult if I ever heard one. I have to smile as well. How I have missed this, joking with Peter, seeing him laugh. And although the situation is dire, this is the happiest I've been since we returned to Narnia.

However, back to the topic at hand. Challenges are also very deliate issues, and every single word in them matters. Normally I would say that under no circumstances do you insult a fellow monarch like this. But then... I wouldn't call Miraz a fellow monarch, the throne is not rightfully his, and it's probably neither here nor there if we write 'usurper' or 'styled king'.

"It's not what you would conventionally write, Peter, but I think you can use it. It's the truth after all. So, now what about the conditions? Do you want to include usual formula, that you give your messenger full power to negotiate the terms?"

All of a sudden he's serious again, and I feel I'm not going to like what will come next. Peter grips the quill tighter and stares at me determinedly.

"No, I will lay the conditions down myself. Listen: _The fight shall be to the death. The reward shall be total surrender _. I know it's quite straightforward, but I simply don't have your elabortate style. Is it too crude?"

I can only shake my head mutely. I knew it, of course. I knew something like this would happen. I understand his reasoning, it is the only way because Miraz will most likely to accept for less, and it's the exact same thing I would do, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. Single combat is a great risk even at the best of times, when your oponent is not twice your age and weight. On top of that I would not put foul play past this Miraz.

Fear seizes me. I can't lose him, now that I'm finally finding him again. There's still so much to resolve between us. If something happens to him... I don't allow myself to follow this train of thought, but I think I would die as well. I've read somewhere that there are doctors who believe that you can die of a broken heart... Wouldn't that be fitting?

I have to drag my mind out of these melancholy thoughts, there's still a lot to do, and the challenge needs to be finished and delievered. That actually reminds me...

"Peter, who do you want to send as herald?"

He looks at me steadily, and I suddenly know what he is going to say before he even opens his mouth.

"I want you to go, Edmund. This challenge is our only chance, and if you consider it logically then Miraz has no reason to accept. The military advantage is completely on his side. If this should appear to happen, then I believe you are the only one who has the ability to cajole him into doing it all the same. He has to accept!"

I can only agree with him in this point. And I wanted to meet this Miraz anyway... Now the question is who to take with me. It would be foolish, not to say dangerous, to appear in their camp all alone. I walk over to the table, skimming the text on the parchment again. Everything seems to be in order.

"Of course I'll go, Peter. I'll be on my way as soon as you've signed the challenge. Do you have an idea who I should take with me? I was thinking Glenstorm and someone else. What do you think?"

I have taken to wandering the chamber again, trying to decide who would suitably impress the Telmarines, but turn back to Peter when he doesn't answer me. He has taken a new parchment and is copying our text onto it, but somehow what he writes looks longer than what we have just agreed upon.

"Did you add something to the challenge, Peter?"

He looks up at me with determination, a hint of uncertainty and something deeper clearly reflected in his eyes.

"Yes, I did. Namely, _We have sent this challenge by the hand of our most-beloved, trusted and valued brother Edmund the Just, King under us in Narnia, Duke of Lantern Waste, Count of the Western March and Knight of the Noble Order of the Table. _And then just the date."

My head snaps up and I simply stare at him. Most-beloved? Trusted? Valued? He hasn't said like this to me in such a long time and to now have it written down in an official challenge... Everything is happening so fast all of a sudden, Peter has changed so drastically and so quickly that I'm having trouble taking it all in. I would like nothing more than to hug him then and there, but instead my rational mind takes over for me.

"Leave that out, Peter. It's too long. We don't want to intimidate Miraz, do we?"

Yes, I realise what I'm doing. I'm avoiding the core of the matter, but that's simply one of the protective mechanisms I had to develop. If something comes up that's a little overwhelming, I tend to ignore it and make a joke. Or I try to steer the topic to a safe, superficial ground. In this case the safe ground is the basics of the challenge and what its length should be in relation to the receiver's attention span. I hope that Peter will fall for it, and we can start a light discussion about the usurper. But he knows my tactics too well, as I can see in the now stubborn set of his chin. He won't let me get away with it.

"Don't try to sidetrack me. I'm not leaving anything out. It's the truth, and everyone can know it. I have done an extremely poor job of expressing it lately."

He smiles that special smile of his that always manages to melt away all of my defenses, the one that makes you feel like the most important person in the whole world. It's a talent of his, rendering me speechless with just a couple of words. His eyes have turned so tender, as if I'm some kind of precious treasure, and he has reached out as if to touch me, but then he lets his arm sink down again.

"We need to talk, Ed."

His voice sounds chocked, and I bet mine will be the same, as soon as I manage to string a sentence together. He's calling me 'Ed' again, and I can't explain how good it feels to hear it. For what seems to be the thousandth time I curse Miraz and his greed that landed us in this mess.

"I'd love to, Pete. More than anything. But you know as well as I do that now is not the time. You have to prepare for your duel, and I have a challenge to deliver. Once this is over..."

Peter nods almost resignedly and glares at the parchment as if it is its fault that we don't have the time to work through our tangled emotions and problems.

"Yes, you're right... So... What did you say earlier? Who to take with you? Let's see... How about the giant? Wimbleweather – wasn't it? It can't hurt to frighten the Telmarines a bit."

I have to grin slightly. That sounds suspiciously like something I would say. Peter rolls up the parchment and hands it over to me. I know what I have to do, I have to see to it that Miraz accepts the challenge, no matter what it takes. I give Peter what I hope to be a reassuring smile, then turn towards the opening of the cave, already contemplating which strategy to use on the usurper.

But before I even set foot out of the chamber, he's suddenly there behind me, grasping my shoulders briefly and leaning his head on mine for a split second.

"Be careful, Ed. I don't trust this Miraz."

Again he has thrown me off balance, and he doesn't even give me the chance to react in any way. I want to return the gesture, want to hold him there, but he has already retreated again. I glance at him one last time, he is standing next to the table, intently studying his quill.

I shake my head slightly, finally striding out of the chamber to assemble my escort and leave. I'm really looking forward to this talk. I expect it's not going to be exactly easy, there are quite a few unresolved issues, misunderstandings and hurts between us that have to be discussed. But we've taken the first step, and from here on out it can only get better.

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_Peter_

I'm standing on the ledge, watching my little brother's progress towards the enemy's camp. Matters are given over into other hands now, and I can only wait and see how everything turns out. But that is alright with me now. I have once again learned that it does not have to be a bad thing to relinquish control.

It is so relieving to be able to completely trust someone again, not wanting to govern every little detail myself. And it is liberating to know there is someone who has the whole plan in view and who is wise and good beyond measure.

I am more thankful than I can say that Edmund still seems willing to accept me again. The time spent with him, writing the challenge, has once again shown me what an extraordinary, special person he is. His loyalty is truly humbling, encouraging me to try my best to be worthy of it. I could have cried when he told me to use my full title. That he still holds me as High King over himself when he has been the true king for the past year is simply incredible.

And I am extremely glad that I had the nerve to establish a sort of contact again, however hestitant and short it may have been. I was so afraid he would back away when I touched him, but I am grateful that I did what my heart told me to.

Now I can focus on the upcoming duel, secure in the knowledge that our relationship is on the mend.

TBC

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No plea for reviews for a change. You know you want to leave one. :)


	4. Walking in Integrity

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine. Sadly...

**Author's Notes: **Sorry, sorry, sorry! I know I haven't updated in such a long time. My only apology is that university caught up with me, and I didn't know when to do all the things I had to do...

Anyway, here's finally the next chapter. It's a bit different, I wanted to present the challenge-giving-scene from another's point of view. I hope I've been successful. :) And sorry also that it's a bit shorter. The next chapter will be longer, I promise.

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**Chapter Four  
****Walking in Integrity **

_Glenstorm_

I can feel a change in the air. Great things are heading towards us, and the first sign of that is the different dynamics between our kings. It is mine to observe, and the alteration in the demeanor of High King Peter when he bade his brother farewell mere minutes ago could therefore not have been more noticeable to me. Where before their majesties were never seen together in close quarters for longer periods of time, there now seemed to be a deep sense of understanding and closeness between them. And when the High King grasped his brother's forearm, the incredibly strong bond that connects them was made visible to me for an instant. I also perceived a calmness and surety around his majesty the High King that has been heretofore unknown to me.

It is therefore with great pleasure that I accompany King Edmund on this mission to deliver a most noble challenge. In the few days that I have known his majesty I have been surprised more than once to find him a man of profound wisdom and sound judgement, far more so than his years and youthful looks might suggest. He appears to me graver and more silent than his royal brother and sisters, but his words when he speaks carry great weight, and even I find myself obeying him without thought or question.

He wears nobility and dignity like a cloak, clearly visible for those who have eyes to see, and it is an honour to fight by his side in this war for our freedom...

I can see the fear and shiftiness in the Telmarines' eyes as we approach the open pavillion where they have assembled to hear my king, and I know that no deceit or false play is beneath them. They bear not a shred of integrity. I do not like it that Wimbleweather and I shall have to wait outside as King Edmund faces these lords who surround him on three sides, regarding him with expressions ranging from condescension to disdain. They are obviously not aware of who they are dealing with.

Fortunately, we are still situated close enough to hear what is spoken and to interfere should anything untoward occur.

The discussion taking place between his majesty and the pretender is interesting to witness because it affords me a firsthand experience of King Edmund's masterful use of words. It is admirable how calmly he reacts to the aspersions the usurper casts on his person. Was his title not stated clearly in the challenge? Or should we infer that the Telmarine leader is hard of hearing?

One thing however is more than obvious: Miraz is not worthy of being a leader of men. No one possessing of true honour would talk in this manner to a king bearing a most noble proposition, displaying his military numbers when his valour is addressed. It is truly shameful...

"So you're bravely refusing to fight a swordsman half your age."

I cannot stop a grin from spreading over my face. I begin to believe that King Edmund is the only person I will ever know who has the ability to twist your own words so skilfully and turn them against you so that you hardly remember what you wanted to express initially.

But the grin vanishes swiftly as I detect that the situation seems to be more serious than even I had thought. There is something in the Telmarine lords' voices as they assure their king of their support that rings false to my ears. I perceive dissension in their tone of voice. They are not loyal to the king they have crowned but two days ago, and I feel they will betray him without a second thought should it be to their advantage. How disgusting.

The general standing behind King Edmund appears to me as being particularly dangerous, even more so because I have to admit to having problems analysing and reading him. He seems to operate according to his own private agenda, having just manoeuvred his superior into a place where he cannot refuse the challenge any longer.

I covertly glance at him from the corner of my eye, studying his face. I will have to watch him carefully during the duel, I cannot predict how he will act. The other lords are easy to read, their dishonourable behaviour and duplicitous manner are apparent, but he seems to be different...

For now, our mission here is finished, and his majesty returns to us, wry amusement showing on his face. He is silent as long as we are in the enemy's camp which is the prudent course of action, but I confess to some curiosity as to his thoughts on our venture.

"Did you hear everything that was said, Glenstorm?"

I look down into his dark, discerning eyes that are now partially lit with quiet laughter, regarding me questioningly.

"I did, your majesty."

He grins at me quickly, then looks on ahead.

"You know, if the whole affair wasn't so incredibly dangerous and serious, I would find this extremely amusing."

I have to agree with him, the machinations of these lords are diverting. But I would still like to hear his thoughts on the matter.

"Sire?"

He laughs sharply.

"Look at how they spoke to him. They practically insulted him to his face, and in front of an enemy emissary, infering that he is a coward. It shows a lot about their loyalty, doesn't it? And then this Glozelle! _He relishes the chance to show the people the courage of their new king._ Yes, you could almost see the eagerness in Miraz' face. ... I wonder what he is up to. The general, I mean. Why does he want Miraz to fight that battle? It can't be about honour alone. I am certain he is planning something."

I can only nod in aquiescence, his majesty was aware of the same points I had observed. Suddenly, his face takes on a grave, almost wistful mien.

"Isn't it sad that Narnia is ruled by people such as these? They do not have harmony, loyalty and integrity even among themselves. How then could they ever impart it to a whole country?"

His words are wise, and I know my respect is well-placed in him.

"They cannot, your majesty. You have seen what they have done to Narnia, to which state they have brought her. But there is hope. I am confident that you, your royal siblings and Prince Caspian will bring us order and will restore peace once again."

He straightens almost imperceptibly and throws me what I interpret as a grateful look.

"I can promise you that we will give everything we have to free Narnia. We love her and all her people, and whatever is within our power will be done, no matter the cost. You must know that Narnia has always been our first priority, foremost in our thoughts and our hearts, and nothing will ever change that."

A sense of deep devotion fills me. I have lived many years, but nothing ever taught me to expect or hope for such a king. Only days ago I did not even know what a 'king' could and should truly be like. But his majesty has opened my eyes to the true meaning of royalty. And in a moment of frightening clarity I realise that I will follow King Edmund wherever he will lead me.

TBC

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So, what did you think? I wasn't quite sure how to write a centaur and was really just experimenting. Tell me how you liked it! Till next time!


	5. Honour Through Humility

**Disclaimer:** And yet again, nothing in here belongs to me.

**Author's Note:** Well, finally here is the next chapter. Sorry that it took so long to update, I had to write two term papers and did not have the nerve to type anything else.  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed and all who put the story on their favourites and alert list. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

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**Chapter Fife  
****Honour through Humility**

Miraz has accepted the challenge and final preparations are even now under way. The marshals of the lists have been chosen, the time determined and Edmund is at the moment conducting a last survey of the perimeter with Glenstorm and one of the Telmarine captains. Somehow, everything feels a bit surreal to me, especially considering that I am wearing my old armour again. It is as if no time at all has passed, although I know of course that it has been centuries since our reign.

I wonder how they managed to preserve both mine and Edmund's gear for more than a thousand years, and it is a marvel that they even thought to keep it after we left. What was it like when we suddenly disappeared? There is no one to ask anymore. Did they bring the chest with our armours here to the Stone Table in the hope that we would return to this sacred place? I will never know. So much time has gone by, so much has happened.

I have not yet allowed myself to think about it, but perhaps I should. My mind needs to be calm for the duel. Narnia has changed so much. In essentials, she is still the same, but it hurt so much when I was not able to orient myself in a landscape where I formerly knew every tree and every stone. And the silence is so foreign. There was always music everywhere we went, our dear cousins, the Animals appeared from all directions to greet, and the Dryads often accompanied us when we rode through the forests. Now there is nothing, only this unbearable silence, the trees have fallen asleep and all the other Creatures have to stay in hiding in order to survive. It is almost worse than during the Witch's reign because I feel that Narnia is slowly losing her spirit, her very being. It tears up inside and I will not allow it to continue for much longer.

I have commited many wrongs, I still feel them keenly, but I will now fight for my beloved country with all that I am, and Aslan-willing I will free it from the invaders and the suffocating oppression.

I have to admit I am glad that I will be able to fight in my own armour, there are so many memories connected with it, and it is almost as if my former nobility is returned to me – the nobility I lost after coming back to England. I am more than grateful to whoever thought to store the armour here, and thankful for the fact that it weathered the centuries. It is still as good as new, and I remember that I had polished my vambraces the day before the hunt. What happened when we did not come back at the end of the day? Did they organise a search party? I am sure they did, Oreius must have been beside himself with worry. We should have listened to him and taken a guard with us, perhaps none of it would have happened then. I wonder who took control of Narnia. It could be that King Lune helped out. Perhaps Corin came here to rule in our absence, Cor would have been indispensable as crown prince. That should have been amusing to see, Corin was always much more interested in fighting than in politics ...

And fighting is the keyword, I should focus on my battle now. I hope I am still in good enough shape. I have not wielded a sword in a year and I do not want to disappoint the Narnians again. I have done enough of that in the past few days. I have to admit I am a bit afraid ...

" ...jesty?"

I am abruptly shaken out of my musings. I did not even notice that someone had entered the chamber. Turning around quickly, I see Reepicheep standing in the entrance, regarding me curiously.

"Yes?"

He executes one of his elegant bows.

"Sire, your royal brother bids me tell you that all preparations are now complete and he will join you presently."

I nod, probably in a very absent-minded manner. So, the time has come, my fate and Narnia's with it will be decided in the next few hours. I can only trust in Aslan and His guidance. Still, I cannot help the niggling feelings of doubt and remonstrance in my heart ...

"Your majesty, forgive my impertinence, but there seem to be great concerns weighing on your mind. If I could be of any assistance to your highness I would be more than glad."

I consider him briefly. Is it that obvious that I feel somewhat insecure? Perhaps not to everyone, but he is very perceptive and likely the most valiant Creature in all of Narnia. He might be exactly the person ... I mean Mouse, I need now to help me sort through my thoughts.

"I would be most grateful for your help, good Reepicheep. Do you remember what you told me just a short while ago? That I was the mirror of honour?"

He clambers up the flat rock where my armour was spread out and looks at me questioningly.

"I do, sire. And I stand by my words."

I have to smile at that. I imagine he would never take any of his words back except under great duress.

"I was contemplating them, and I feel that my actions during the past few days have been less than honourable. Quite the opposite in fact."

Reepicheep is silent for a while, one paw resting on his sword and the other twirling his whiskers, obviously weighing his words carefully.

"I presume you are referring to the raid on the usurper's castle, your majesty?"

I can only nod, I was thinking about that, among other things.

"May I ask, sire, about your exact thoughts on this venture? I do believe I perceive a change in your demeanour, but I would not want to presume too much."

Have I truly been so insufferable that everybody now notices the change?

"You do not presume too much, and I would be happy if you felt you could speak your mind feely. To tell the truth, I had a very determining encounter with Aslan. However, I cannot help still feeling sad and slighly guilty about what I have, the decisions I made. My motivations were wrong and my misjudgement cost many good soldiers their lives, a fact I regret more than I can say."

Reepicheep's small beady eyes are shining and he starts pacing around on the rock surface.

"Your highness has just proven my earlier words to be true."

I can only look at him in confusion. I would not have thought that Mice would also talk in riddles. Centaurs, yes, but Mice... Reepicheep must have noticed my mute staring because he immediately continues.

"One needs honour to risk a hopeless venture with almost certain death as the outcome, your majesty. However, it requires just as much honour – perhaps even more – to admit to one's faults and shortcomings freely. I am not so arrogant to deny the fact that mistakes happen even to the very best of people. It is then the mark of the truly noble and honourable Mouse, or Man, to humbly confess them and strive to rectify them, as your highness has just done. The important thing is, sire, that you must not expect too much of yourself in too short a time. If I may voice my modest opinion, you have gone through a trying time, and I am certain your encounter with the great Lion was but the beginning of your way to healing. It is now your task to have patience with yourself, sire, and to try not rushing that which takes time to mend."

I am speechless. He has put into words what I have known deep down, but could not completely believe and accept for myself. And just now I realise that I needed to hear it spoken out loud. A part of pressure I have inflicted on myself lifts, and I somehow understand better what Aslan wanted to tell me. He has forgiven me, but it is only the beginning. It is alright to still feel insecure and to have issues that still need to be resolved. It is nevertheless good to know that I am on the right path again and that I have time to work on the aspects that are yet difficult.

"Thank you, my good Reepicheep. You have helped me more than I can say."

He smiles at me and bows low.

"It has been my pleasure, your highness. And I wish to tell you with all honesty that it is a great honour for me to call you my liege and my king and to follow you."

If he was not such a noble Mouse, I would love to embrace now because he has done me an invaluable service ...

I can hear footsteps drawing nearer, and a moment later Edmund enters the chamber, nodding slightly to Reepicheep and then fixing his gaze on me.

"Peter, everything is ready now, and Miraz is approaching. We have to go."

Reepicheep bows again and jumps down from the rocky table.

"Then I take my leave of you, your majesties, so that you can finalise your preparations in private. I do not wish your highness luck, as it would be insulting to a swordsman of your prowess, but I do wish you a worthy fight."

With that he exits the cavern, leaving me with Edmund. He seems to be nervous which is of course perfectly understandable. We were never comfortable when the other had to partake in a fight, especially if it was a single combat. But there is so much more at stake here. Not only the fate of all the Narnians, but also my relationship with my brother. I would give anything to know what he is thinking at the moment. Is he as afraid as I am? Is he contemplating all that we still have to talk about, the things that are still between us? He is standing beside me, an unreadable look on his face.

"Pete, I ..."

But then he just shakes his head, not continuing. Why does he not tell me what is on his mind? Does he still not trust me?

Suddenly he takes my hand and squeezes it tightly for a moment. And before I can react in any way, he rises up on his tiptoes and lightly kisses my cheek. Then he is gone again, striding across the stony cave and picking up Rhindon on the way.

"Come on Pete. It's time."

I stand there for a few seconds, immobilised. Edmund rarely does something like that, it certainly has not occured in the past year which was obviously my fault entirely. It is such a clear sign of his affection and perhaps even – dare I hope? – of his willingness to forgive me. It truly means the world to me. Knowing him at my back I will be able to weather this fight.

I follow him slowly through the winding corridors towards the entrance to the How. We do not speak as we walk alongside each other, but I think I can feel the last remnants of the wall that has been between us beginning to break away.

We step out into the sunlight, every Narnian of our army is already present, cheering loudly, but the only person I am truly aware of is my brother. A strange calmness creeps over me, my fear leaves me almost completely. I know I will do my best, and that will be enough. Everything else is in the hands of someone much greater than me.

I glance at Edmund again as we approach the fighting range, and I vow to myself that I will give all that I have and all that I am not just for Narnia, but also for my dear little brother, my best friend who is more important to me than anything else in the world. And I pray to Aslan that He will give me the strength to protect those I love and to fulfil his will.

TBC

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That's it for now. Tell me what you think, I want to know everything!


	6. Blessed through Faithfulness

**Disclaimer: **As before, nothing belongs to me, but to C.S. Lewis and Disney.

**Author's Note: ***peeks around furtively and ducks, waiting for eggs or rotten tomatoes* Well, here I am again, hope you still know me. I'm really, really sorry that it took me so long. I know it's no good excuse, but I'll cite it anyway: University. As a peace offering, the chapter is quite long. I'll not vouch for it being good, I've no idea. I don't think I'm very good at writing battles, but I'll let you be the judges. Enjoy!

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**Chapter Six  
****Blessed through Faithfulness**

Peter is entering the fighting range, and I can't help shivering slightling. This venture seems more and more ominous with every passing second and to tell the truth, I'm almost sick with worry. Of course, Peter is the best swordsman I know, but it's also a fact that we haven't been in a true fight in over a year, and Miraz is almost twice Peter's weight. I don't want to think about what the outcome might be...

They are circling each other now, and it's as if I'm thrown into the past, to all the other times that I've had to watch Peter engage in single combat. And with it come the feelings that have been so distant for the last year. The moment just before they begin has always been the worst for me. I am almost breathless with anticipation, the tension is nearly unbearable and the air feels as if I could cut it with a knife. Everything that could go wrong rushes through my head like a slide-show with no button to stop it. I don't want to see these pictures, don't want to imagine what could happen to him.

The tension unravels itself in a great shout rising up from both armies when the two finally cross swords. I'm watching Peter's moves carefully and I can see his form and agility returning to him. I'm sure the very air in Narnia recognises the High King and tries to invigorate him, bringing back the memories from countless battles.

I wince when Miraz knocks Peter's helmet off, I know how much that can hurt, and I can already see the bruise forming on his face. I hate every single time he gets hurt. It makes me feel so helpless, I can't step out there and aid him in any way. I'm forced to stand here on the sidelines and be an observer which is the worst position to be in. If I could just fight as well I wouldn't feel so absolutely powerless...

I join in the cheer from our soldiers, Peter has just drawn first blood. I see Miraz glance at his lords and quickly look over to them as well. I don't trust them as far as I can throw them and this General Glozell with the crossbow in his hands makes me very uneasy. If they try anything, so help me, I'll not be held accountable for my actions. Rules of combat or not.

A very familiar cry of pain reaches my ears and my head swivels back to Peter almost automatically... and my heart nearly stops. He's lying on the ground, Miraz over him with his sword raised high. I want to run to Peter, want to defend him, but the rules of engagement forbid me to. It's only years of rigorous training that are holding me back now, and I don't know if I should be grateful for that or frustrated...

There's Caspian approaching on horseback. Strange, I hadn't realised he'd left. Then I notice Susan behind him and cold dread runs through me. Where's Lucy? It's not possible that something happened to her, is it? Aslan would never allow... No, I have to trust that He will protect her. But why is it that every worry always brings a host of friends with it? Now I have two siblings whose safety, whose very life is in danger. I wonder how much fear you can bear before you snap...

I return my attention to Peter who must've agreed to a respite with Miraz because they're just now turning their backs on each other. The moment his eyes find me, all of his masks drop and his face contorts in pain. He must be hurt worse than I thought and I only hope I can do at least a little bit to help him. But Peter wouldn't be Peter if he didn't worry more about others than about himself.

So before I can ask him to please sit down and let me see his arm, he has already started questioning Susan about Lucy's whereabouts. Of course I'm more than relieved to hear that she got through more or less safely, but I do think Susan could have still told her story while he was sitting down and resting. That is so typical of him, he never cares if he's injured as long as we others are alright. We've had many arguments about this attitude of his in the past, and I have a whole lot of things I could tell him now, but I don't think it's the right moment. At least it's another indication that _my_ Peter is truly back again, his habit of thinking about everyone else before himself.

I still don't understand how it happened, but he has truly about-faced in the past eight hours. I do suspect that Aslan has something to do with this, and I hope Peter will tell me about it. I have to admit that I do not understand Aslan at all at the moment. Only Lucy has seen Him and though I have felt His presence I would like to know what His plan his. Lucy would probably tell me that I simply have to trust him, and that His thoughts are not ours. But that is so hard to do sometimes...

Peter is still preoccupied with Susan and her safety and won't let me tend to his injuries. Well, if he wants to send me "up there" as well, he has another thing coming at him. I wouldn't dream of leaving him here alone... But he doesn't even try. I should've known it. Of course he realises that I would not listen to him.

The silence behind me jars me out of my thoughts, and I glance around quickly. The Narnians have become very quiet and there's fear in many of their faces. They have noticed their king's injury as well and are shaken and unsettled. We cannot allow despair to settle in. If we want to win this war, they have to believe in themselves and in us. We have to raise their courage and give them hope again.

"Keep smiling", I whisper to Peter, and he reacts immediately, understanding what I'm trying to tell him. I know we are in the middle of an almost hopeless battle, but I'm so happy to see him trusting me and my judgements again without questioning or doubting me at every turn. I don't think it would be helpful if I started crying now, so I focus on Peter and his injuries again.

His smile is quite strained, but the Narninans obviously take heart from it. It's humbling how much faith they seem to have in us and our leadership even though we have been here for barely two days and despite what has happened last night. So much depends on us now, on Peter, and I would be quite daunted if I didn't trust in Aslan and my brother implicitly.

He has finally sat down, and I hope he will now let me see to his wounds. He's definitely too stubborn for his own good, and the respite is almost over. The fact that he doesn't try to convince me that "it's nothing" is very telling in itself, and I don't like what I see. His shoulder is dislocated and I'll have to set this which is very painful, as I know from personal experience. I need to distract him somehow, but I can't think of anything to talk about. There are so many thinks I long to tell him, but this is neither the time nor the place.

And Caspian is no help either. I certainly understand that all this is quite overwhelming for someone who has up to now only had theoretical knowledge of warfare, and I pity him a bit. But it's very distracting that he keeps looking up at Susan every few seconds. I wonder what's going through his head. Not even I would've started developing a love interest in the middle of war. It's fortunate for him that Peter is and always was a bit dense when it came to our sisters' suitors, otherwise we'd now have a whole new scale of problems on our hands.

However, Peter's thoughts seem to be miles away, he doesn't even flinch at my prodding of his shoulder. I try to catch his eye, but he's staring off into the distance, seeing who knows what. Anxiety and dread settle in the pit of my stomach. This behaviour is never a good sign. More often than not it means that he's had a depressing idea and is now in the process of convincing himself that this worst-case scenario is truly the only possible outcome.

"What do you think happens back home if you die here?"

A mixture of immeasurable fear, panic and anger washes through me. I can't possibly be hearing properly, he can't be serious. This sounds as if he has already given up the fight and himself.

I won't allow it. I won't allow him to despair. He will win this fight, and then we'll talk. He won't die here. I _will not_ allow it.

He looks at me and while his gaze almost worries me more, it also touches something deep within me. It's so tender, and he seems to try and apologise, but I don't know what for. He can't be really giving up, can he?

No, that's not who Peter is. He always fights till the very end. Of course, there's always the possibility... And it would be simply unbearable if he... If I couldn't tell him that I...

"You know you've always been there and I never really..."

My heart almost breaks. I won't let him continue down this path. I refuse to think about this. He can tell me all I've done and where I've been after he has finished the fight. I won't start contemplating his... his...

With a quick movement I push his joint back into its socket, effectively cutting him off as he cries out in pain. I don't want to hear a good-bye. It's agonising enough to watch this duel without being able to back him up in any way, but listening to him now would hurt even more. I can't breathe properly and for a second everything around me blurs slightly.

"Save it for later."

I hope he understands I'm trying to tell him that he better make sure there _is_ a later. I don't know what I would do if something happened to him here, if he really... I can't even think the word in connection to Peter. I believe I would die, too. If not from my heart shattering into a million pieces, then because I'd probably attack the Telmarines single-handedly. What else could I do when one half of me dies?

Aslan, please protect him!

It can't be His will that Peter's life ends here. Not now. Not when there is still so much to do. We have so many plans. There are still so many things I have to tell him. He's my big brother, he's always been there, I can't imagine... He can't. He simply can't ... vanish like this. I'll do anything if just...

I know I'm shaking, and the world is spinning around me crazily. I can't stop my thoughts. What if he can't use his shield arm properly? What if Miraz uses some underhanded trick? What if the general shoots him with the crossbow? What will I do? What _can_ I do? Nothing! Nothing but stand here and wait for the inevitable.

Please Aslan, please don't take him away from me! I need him so much, I can't go on without him...

I'm suddenly enveloped by warmth, and a soothing breeze brushes over me. And I hear a gentle voice, reaching deep down to my darkest fears.

"Be strong and courageous, my child. Have no fear, for I am always with you and your brother. I will never forsake you, nor leave you. Trust me and be brave, dear heart."

My panic subsides and I feel my breathing ease. Of course, how could I have forgotten. No matter what happens, He is always there. I return to Peter's side with renewed strength and try to convey with a look that I'm alright, that I trust in him and his abilities, and above all in Aslan. I think he understands me because he smiles slightly and grasps my forearm tightly for a moment, determination shining brightly in his eyes.

Then the respite is over, and Peter enters the fighting range again. The battle is quickly becoming more brutal, and I can barely keep myself from crying out loud when Peter loses his shield and is thrown against a boulder. I taste blood and for one irrational moment I wonder if I can actually feel the wounds Peter receives, before I realise that I've bitten right through my lip.

Rhindon is lying on the ground several feet away from Peter, and my sword is halfway out of its scabbard before I know what I'm doing. It's a tremendous effort to stop myself from running out there to defend him, and it's only my years of training and my sense of honour that are holding me back. And Peter uses his vambrace masterfully to protect himself...

Everything happens very fast now, and then Miraz is on his knees in front of Peter. What is he waiting for? The duel is basically over and this is the perfect chance to end it once and for all.

"Now is not the time for chivalry, Peter!"

But as soon as the words leave my mouth, I know that it _is_. Reining in the vengeful side of me that always wishes a painful death on anyone who dares to hurt Peter or the girls, I remind myself of who we are. A king – actually any man of honour – never strikes anyone who is down on the ground and weaponless.

Miraz seems to have asked for another respite because Peter is turning around and coming back towards us. Do they still plan to fight on? It's obvious they're both exhausted, and Peter all but defeated him just now...

I notice a movement from the corner of my eye and glance at Miraz. The bastard! I knew it!

"Look out!"

Peter whirls around. I can't see what he's doing, but he manages to wrest Miraz's swort out of his grip and drives it upwards, under the traitor's breastplate. It's over. The duel is truly over now. I can't yet comprehend it, but an enormous load is lifted off of my shoulders. A huge sense of relief flows through me, and I have to lean on the column for a second so that I don't sink to the ground. My knees are a bit shaky all of a sudden. Peter has won. He is safe, at least for the moment.

I have no illusions though. This isn't the end. An honourable opponent would concede defeat and retreat, but as we have just seen, Miraz is nothing of the sort. But we knew this of course. We have reached our goal of buying time for Lucy, and I'm confident she has found Aslan by now. We are prepared for the battle that is to come and we'll hold out until He arrives.

I do wonder if it is such a good idea to offer the sword to Caspian. I understand his wish to revenge his father's death, but he seems so confused. There is such a myriad of emotions swirling through his eyes that I doubt he's capable of thinking rationally at the moment. If he kills Miraz now, only to be consumed by guilt and regret later on... It would be horrible. However, Peter throws me a look that seems to say, "Trust me, I know what I'm doing", as he comes to stand beside me, and so I do.

And he is of course again right. Perhaps he simply understands Caspian better. They are after all both such hardheaded, hot-blooded people. They can fly into rages fairly quickly, but they cool down just as fast and would probably never be able to deliberately fell a defenseless man. I believe I'm a bit different in that respect. If someone murdered Peter, I would hunt him to the ends of the earth, and I think I would have no problem whatsoever killing him in cold blood.

So it's a good thing Caspian is not like me and does not kill Miraz.

There's a commotion behind us and before I fully register what is going on, the lord with the curly hair and the shifty eyes is pointing at us, yelling at the top of his voice.

"Treachery! She shot our king!"

Miraz is lying on the ground, dead, with one of Susan's arrows sticking out of his side. Why, that little... I knew it! I suspected they would put on an act like this, but it's outrageous that he's now assigning blame to us. He seemed so insignificant, this Lord Sosepsi-something. Why did I not realise that he was the truly dangerous one? Have I lost my touch? I'm supposed to be a good judge of character. I probably didn't pay enough attention to him. I was so focused on the general who now appears to be the more honourable man.

The battle will start sooner than I had thought...

Caspian and Glenstorm are waiting for Peter's command to set our plan in motion, and I follow Peter to the edge of the fighting range. Now we have to wait for the right moment which is not exactly easy when rocks are raining down all around you. I hate these instants before a battle truly starts. The anticipation can be worse than the actual fighting.

The cavalry now approaches, and I try to gauge their distance, how much time they need to reach us, and how far Caspian has to go. Peter and I come to the same conclusion because just when I think the moment has come he turns to Caspian and nods once.

I try to calm myself and focus inwards to prepare for what is to come. Their sheer numbers are almost overwhelming, and I can see that the battle will be hard and bloody. But that doesn't matter because I'll never give up, not even when all the odds are against us.

I hear Caspian's signal and next to me Peter starts counting. Soon I feel the ground beneath me vibrating, and then the Telmarines start to break in as the earth gives way.

With a last glance at Peter and a plea to Aslan for his safety, I take my crossbow and leap onto a horse, plunging into the fray. Behind me, I hear Peter's command to charge, but then everything blends together and I just react. It's this state of extreme concentration where I'm so focused that everything else just fades away, and the only things that matter are me, my weapons and my opponent.

I don't know how many Telmarine soldiers I've shot when Peter's voice reaches me.

"Back to the How!"

I look out over the melee and see the infantry advancing rapidly. It does not look good for us at all. Perhaps a strategic retreat is in order...

But before I can even turn the horse around, there's a great resounding thunder, and the entrance is smashed, a cloud of dust rising up. So much for that. It looks like this will be our last heroic stand.

Where is Lucy? I know and accept that Aslan's plans are not our plans, but I _do_ hope his time comes soon, otherwise there will not be much left of us.

I'm now standing next to Peter, sword drawn. Should this somehow truly be the end, then I want to be by his side, facing it together, just as we have vowed one year or a thousand ago.

We throw ourselves into the battle again. I sense Susan shooting arrow after arrow next to me and try to do a brief survey of the perimeter. Where is Peter? I get a quick glance of him, he's in his element.

I notice that we are slowly but steadily pushed back when there suddenly is a rushing in the air and the ground starts shaking. I smell a wonderfully earthy, slightly sweet scent, one I have missed keenly since entering Narnia again, and a surge of hope and elation runs through me.

The trees have awakened! Aslan is here!

I can only watch as the mighty Dryads make short work of the Telmarine army and their war machines. And I have to smile. When will I finally learn that Aslan _always_ acts just at the right time?

We are pursuing the fleeing Telmarines towards the fords of Beruna, and it seems to be only a formality to defeat them now. And a quick glance reassures me that Peter is not hurt worse than he was before. Lion be praised!

We come out of the woods and almost crash into the Telmarines. Strange, I would've thought they'd be halfway over the bridge by now...

But then I see why. Lucy's there on the other side of the river, drawing her small dagger. My brave little sister, so aptly named the Valiant. I have no doubt that she would face them all single-handedly if she had to. But she does not have to because right next to her is He whom I have so longed to see again.

I look at Peter, and I know we are thinking the exact same thing. He's here. He's finally here and everything will be alright now. Relief, happiness, thankfulness, I can't grasp everything that I'm feeling at the moment. I've missed Him so much and it's almost unbelievable that I can now see Him again.

The Telmarines seem to have no idea who is standing in front of them because they've come out of their stupor and are moving forward, some over the bridge and some through the water. Then Aslan roars and I feel renewed strength and resolve rising up in me, as if all the anxiety and fear of the past few hours are simply swept away.

The water is receding and with sudden clarity I realise what is about to happen. Aslan has awakened the Rivergod and he is understandably not happy with this wooden contraption hampering his river's flow if the massive tidal wave approaching us is anything to go by...

Foolish Telmarine lords aside, it's great to see a familiar face again. Narnia may have been changed almost beyond recognition, but he seems to be still the same if I look at his treatment of Lord – now what's his name? Why can't I remember this one name? Sopsi-something. I hope we'll get to talk to the Rivergod while we are still here. It seems like only yesterday that we discussed the watering of our new orchard at the Cair with him. And here it's been over a thousand years...

The river is flowing peacefully again, the battle is over, Aslan has won.

The Telmarines realise this as well, they are not fighting anymore and are surrendering their weapons. All around me Narnians and Telmarines are helping each other out of the water, and it's obvious that no one bears the other a grudge. It was once again the leaders making war, not the ordinary soldiers...

Before I can turn to look for Peter he is there, circling and scrutinising me. I know what he's doing, and it doesn't get better with every repition, though it _is_ quite touching.

"Are you alright, Ed? Are you hurt?"

I can only sigh. It's always the same, after every battle, even when he's ten times as injured as I am. I like to call this the typical big-brother-mode...

"No, it's you who had an arm dislocated and was thrown around like a ragdoll, if you care to remember. I'm perfectly alright."

He completes a last circle, obviously satisfied with what he sees, and comes to stand before me.

"I do remember. But you tend to hide your injuries or anything else that's wrong. I just like to make sure."

Somehow, this triggers a lot of memories from the past year. All the times he didn't speak to me, pushed me away, was so cold and distant. He was a master at hiding, then, too.

"Well, look who's talking."

I can't help sounding slightly bitter, and immeadiately pain, regret and sorrow flash through his eyes. I'm sorry I couldn't hold my tongue, I truly don't blame him anymore. I've seen him come back to himself after all. I hope we'll soon have the time for that talk, I don't think I can wait that much longer.

"Ed, I... You don't know how sorry I am. If I could, I'd..."

I have to stop him right there, before he starts to blame himself again. If he's on one of his trips of self-guilt, it's hard to get him out of it. So I quickly cross the distance between us and give him a brief hug. He stiffens for a moment, then returns it and I feel his head resting on mine for a moment.

A sparkle of gold catches my eye.

"Come on, Pete. Let's get over there."

His gaze wanders over to the form of Aslan on the other bank and a smile steals over his face. He did understand what I wanted to tell him. Together with Susan and Caspian we wade through the river, and finally I'm kneeling in front of Him again. How I have missed him! I would love to rush forward and bury my face in His thick golden mane.

"Rise, kings and queens of Narnia."

Hearing His voice in reality, not just echoing in my mind, sends a thrill of joy through me, and I can only gaze at Him with gratitude. Caspian is still kneeling beside me, and I think I can understand him at least a bit. I know what it is like to not feel like a king, to feel unworthy...

"All of you."

But of course Aslan knows him better than he does himself, and His words that Caspian is ready precisely because he doesn't believe himself to be so speak to me as well.

Just then, a small blur collides with me, and I'm left with an armful of Lucy.

"Oh Ed! You're alright! Lion be praised!"

Before I can say a word she rushes over, straight into Peter's arms. He and Susan crowd around her, no doubt praising her for her success in finding Aslan, wanting to know everything that happened to her. I look back to Him and find Him watching me intently.

"Edmund. Walk with me."

I glance at the others briefly, but they're all still occupied with Lucy, so I make my way over to Aslan and we start walking away from the river.

"Edmund, I am very proud of you."

I'm all astonishment. I would have expected anything, but not this.

"What? Why?"

He chuckles quietly, a warm, rich sound that envelops and comforts me.

"You have grown a lot in the past year, dear one. You were often hurt and did not understand what was happening, why your brother was so different. But you still remained steadfast and faithful. I am happy that you placed your trust in me."

Tears spring to my eyes and I tangle my fingers in His mane. I can't speak, can't express how much it means to me, to hear that He's proud of me. If what little I can do makes Him happy, then I'm more than glad. I'll never forget his sacrifice, what He did for me because He loved me. He starts purring, and I think He knows what just went through my mind. He knows me inside out after all.

Then his other words register, and it's all I can do to keep the tears from falling. How often did I wish for Aslan to be there in England, when Peter once again slammed the door in my face, when he yelled at me to shut up and to get lost, when he... But no, I won't go there. That was one instance we actually talked through, and I forgave him long ago.

"I was there, Edmund. I know how much you hurt. I have counted every tear you cried, and I have carried you when you thought you could not go on. You were never alone, even though you could not feel me. You still placed your trust in me and did not abandon your faith, and for that I am proud of you, my child."

It's finally too much. I bury my head in his golden fur and simply let go. He knows, he knew all the time. I don't have to be in control anymore. Great, heaving sobs are wracking my body, but I don't care. I don't have to hide anything from Aslan.

He lets me cry until there are no tears left, all the while continuing to purr gently. It's so liberating to release all these pent-up emotions, to know that I'm understood, safe and loved. And then I'm just standing there, face hidden in his mane, listening to His strong heartbeat, and I feel cleansed. As if all the dark thoughts and the hurt and the bitterness that were still inside me are washed away.

Peace settles over me like a blanket, reaching into the farthest recesses of my soul, and I'm sure I could take on anything now. I step back, looking into Aslan's eyes, and I see so much love in them that I could surely drown in it. I'm certain I'll never be able to understand why He loves me so much, even if I lived several lifetimes. I'm once again humbled by everything He's done for me and will most likely continue to do.

And then I can't help myself, I simply have to ask, even though I'm quite sure of the answer. But it can't hurt to try, right?

"Aslan, what _did_ happen to Peter? Why was he so different?"

His purr turns into a faint growl for a second. He knows that I'm not entirely serious, that I'm challenging him. But I think it's more amusement and exasperation than anger.

"Child, you know I can always only tell you your own story. For that, you will have to ask your brother."

I nod, I've heard it before after all. Then He smiles and presses a warm Lion's kiss on my forehead.

"Well done, Edmund. Very well done indeed."

I smile back at him in gratitude, and then turn to the riverbank where my siblings are still standing together. Peter is talking to Glenstorm and Trumpkin now, and I guess they are discussing our next step, where we'll spend the night and what's to happen with the army and the Telmarine soldiers now. I should probably join them, and with a last nudge from Aslan I'm on my way.

"Thank you."

It's the only thing I can whisper softly, but He understands. He understands the emotions I can't put into words.

Peter looks over to me and our eyes connect. His gaze turns tender and I am simply and almost unbearably happy. Everything will be alright because as I've seen, wounds can be healed and hurts can be forgiven.

TBC

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So, what did you think? You know you want to tell me... I'll try to update quicker now, I hope to finish the story before I go to Japan on September 10th.


	7. Change not a Brother for Gold

**Disclaimer: **Not mine! Nothing of it, unfortunately.

**Author's Note: **I actually managed to write "The Talk"! I so wanted this to be good, as you've all waited for it. Thank you all for your reviews, you don't know how happy every last one has made me! I'm glad that you like the story.  
I tried something new (for me) in this chapter, mostly thanks to Sentimental Star who wanted to see what it was that Edmund didn't want to think about in the last chapter. *waves* Tell me how it works out.  
Sorry it took me so long to upload this. I had problems with fanfiction . net or my computer - or both. ^^'

Enough talk! Enjoy!

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**Chapter Seven  
Change not a Brother for Gold**

The silence is strange after this day of battle and activity. I should be grateful for it, grateful for the chance to relax and let go, but the pictures won't stop, the thoughts won't cease revolving in my head.

The duel.

I know it was intense, I know it was brutal, but the only thing that stands out clearly are Edmund's eyes. I just wanted to tell him how much he meant to me, how his unwavering support was probably the only thing that kept me from going completely crazy. I mean, there was the very real possibility that I might die. Miraz was stronger than me, and I was out of practice. If I could not tell him anything else, I wanted him to know at least that.

But he would not let me speak, and the agony and anger in his eyes cut me to the quick. I know what he meant, what he must have thought. I was not giving up, I just wanted to make sure we did not part like this.

Then the battle, those few torturous minutes when I did not see him, fearing the worst. I was so relieved when I could make sure he was not hurt, but from then on things went downhill. First I managed to say the wrong things again. Why did I have to start on the whole hiding things issue? It was bound to provoke a reaction like this and it is not as if I can complain. I have hidden much worse than a scrape in the past year, treating people who inquired to far more than a harsh word...

Although... perhaps he was not that angry. He did hug me after all which is such a clear sign of affection from him. I would have kept him in my arms, but there were still so many things to do, greeting Aslan, organising the army and the Telmarine soldiers, and finally hearing what happened to my dear Lucy.

Edmund was gone suddenly and I could see him a ways off, talking to Aslan. I remember being happy that Ed got that chance, I am sure he missed Aslan a lot. Before I knew what was happening, he had buried his face in the Lion's mane and was sobbing uncontrollably. And my heart plummeted to the ground. I was sure – and still am – that I was the reason for his tears.

I wonder what Aslan said. Or what Edmund told him. I can recall any number of instances that would merit such a reaction, all of them my fault. I bury my head in my arms, trying to hide from my own shame. Perhaps it is good I am alone right now. The inn we are staying in for the night is quite comfortable. Normally we would be in the camp outside the city walls, but our army and the town's people insisted that we take our lodgings here. The bed is nice, all soft quilts and downy pillows...

I feel restless. What memory provoked Edmund's heartbreaking outburst?

I sit up with a gasp, tears of remorse entering my eyes. Surely it was that. I do not like remembering it, but perhaps it is fitting punishment that I have to relive one of the blackest days of my life.

_He had already started the day off on the wrong foot, oversleeping and being late for his first class, putting him in a foul mood. From then on it went from bad to worse._

"_No, Pevensie. The plotters most certainly did not know what they were doing."_

_Peter was already quietly simmering. Why could Professor Stevens not admit that he had made a valid point?_

"_But professor, no one in their right mind would try to blow up Parliament without having a solid plan up their sleeve. I am sure they had contacts in very high places, perhaps even the Archpriest Blackwell was involved, had established a communication with Rome. The Pope certainly would have sanctified such a venture. And Guy Fawkes could never have gone to Flanders and got the gunpowder if he didn't have some influential supporters helping him. I think they knew exactly what they were doing and how things should continue after the explosion."_

_Peter thought he had presented reasonable arguments, but his professor only viewed him with what he interpreted as overwhelming condescension. _

"_That's ridiculous, Pevensie. Fanciful imaginings. You should devote more time to your books, not to devising such outrageous conspiracy theories."_

_Peter glared at the professor with pure venom. He was a king, he would not allow such treatment of himself._

"_Sir, I'm asking you kindly to desist from calling me and my arguments ridiculous."_

_But his tone was anything but kind, and the professor's eyes narrowed in consternation._

"_Watch your tongue, young man, or it is detention for you."_

_However, Peter was beyond caring by now. He got up from his chair so abruptly that it toppled over, and if looks could kill, his professor would be lying on the ground now. Drawing himself up to his full height and unconciously resting his left hand on his hip where his sword should be, he spoke in the chilliest voice anyone in the class had ever heard coming from him._

"_I demand that you respect me and my views. I have made a sensible claim and supported it with solid arguments, and I insist on being taken seriously. If you cannot accept opinions differing from your own, then I have to question your pedagogic qualification."_

_Professor Stevens stared at him for a moment in complete shock, then his face turned an alarming shade of red._

"_That's enough! I've never in my life heard such insolence from a student. We are going to the headmaster immediately."_

_And so an outraged Peter spent an uncomfortable hour in the headmaster's office, furiously trying to defend himself and adamantly refusing to apologise for what he deemed a justified reaction. The result was two weeks worth of detention and, even worse, an essay on why one had to respect one's teachers._

_Peter was fuming by the time he reached the library after lunch to start on his homework. How dare they treat him like this? He was no errant child that could be reprimanded and dismissed at will! He was... But what exactly was he? Sometimes he wasn't so sure himself..._

_Avoiding the cluster of his classmates, he settled near the librarian's desk and tried to write the stupid punishment essay, but nothing came to mind. Peter respected people when they had earned it, and his professors certainly had done nothing of the sort. Was it right to respect someone just because they were standing in front of a class and teaching a subject?_

_A loud crash drew him out of his musings, and his head swivelled towards the noise. Miss Barton, the librarian, was kneeling on the floor, picking up a stack of books and papers she had dropped while trying to open the door. Years of courtly manners and his ingrained sense of helping anyone in need – especially women – sprang to the forefront of Peter's mind in an instant, and before he knew it, he was across the room gathering papers and then taking the heavy books out of her arms._

"_Where did you want to go with these, Miss Barton? I'll carry them for you."_

_She smiled at him gratefully._

"_Just down the corridor to my bureau. Some of the pages are loose, and I'll have to mend them. Thank you, Mr. Pevensie."_

_When he returned to the library, he immeadiately noticed the snickers coming from the direction of his classmates. He ignored them, it probably was about something silly anyway and made his way back to his table. But Gordon's voice stopped him dead in his tracks._

"_Hey, Pevensie. We didn't know you fancied older women."_

_Peter faced him slowly, incredulity written all over his face._

"_What?!"_

_Gordon just smirked._

"_I mean, we know you've changed something awful since your sojourn to the country, but come on! She's what? Forty? You could do better than that, Pevensie."_

_More laughter and Matthew Thomas slapped Gordon on the back._

"_Who knows, Bob. Perhaps he knows something we don't. I bet she's got lots of ... experience, eh?"_

_Peter knew he was fast reaching his boiling point, the tension was almost unbearable and rage was already bubbling up inside him. If he didn't get out of here immediately, he'd do something he would surely regret later, like demolishing the whole library__ which would definitely not be a good idea. So he stalked to his table, quickly gathering his things and leaving the room. All the while followed by the taunting voices of his classmates._

"_It's no shame to be inexperienced, Pevensie. We all started somewhere."_

_Peter tore down the corridors and out into the autumn sunlight, wanting to punch something, anything, to get rid of this burning wrath, but there was nothing. Oh, if he met them somewhere else, out in the grounds, he'd show them who was inexperienced! They were just little boys, and they had the audacity to make fun of him! If he were still in Narnia, something like this would never have happened. _

_He plopped down beneath a large oak, looking up into the red-and-gold canopy. It was all so frustrating. He knew how to delegate armies, how to conquer lands, lead diplomatic missions and rule a whole country. It was simply unsupportable how he was treated here. He should be listened to and heeded, he should be respected and honoured. And what did he get? Condescension and mockery..._

_The falling leaves triggered a memory and a wave of bitter sadness washed over him. They would be preparing for the great Harvest Feast right about now. There would be revelries all over the country, dances, bonfires and banquets. On the last day they would hold the big tournament. They would welcome dignitaries and contestants from Archenland, Galma and Terebinthia. Susan would sit in the place of honour, giving the signal for the jousts to begin. Lucy would be on the edge of the raised platform, cheering for everyone, having no favourites. Edmund would try to bend the rules a bit, attempting to cajole Oreius into letting him use his twin blades. And he, Peter, would have the right of the first fight, would preside over the other competitions and hand out the rewards to the winners. He would lead the ceremony in Aslan's honour, thanking Him for another bountiful year..._

_He punched the ground furiously. It was all gone, lost forever. He didn't understand it. Why had Aslan let it happen? But he didn't want to think about it, the day had been maddening enough already._

_However, his misery was far from being over._

_Peter had just gotten himself a cup of coffee and was crossing the courtyard towards his dormitory when someone bumped into his side. The coffee sloshed over, scalding his fingers and drenching his clothes. It was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. The rage he had nursed the whole day finally boiled over. He whirled around, fixing the offender with a withering stare._

"_Watch where you're going, you idiot!"_

_The other was baffled at first, but quickly became angry as well._

"_Hey! It's not as if I did it on purpose! You could've watched out as well!"_

_Peter just scoffed derisively._

"_Oh please! It's not my fault you don't have eyes in your head!"_

_The other boy was swiftly turning red, and Peter discarded his cup, preparing for a fight. It would feel so good to let out all the tension._

_But before he could throw the first punch, a hand appeared on his arm, starting to drag him away. And an irate voice was hissing in his ear._

_  
"What do you think you're doing?!"_

_The same voice called out over his shoulder to his would-be opponent._

"_I'm sorry to break up you're fight, but I need him urgently."_

_In short order Peter was hauled into his thankfully empty dormitory, and a severly displeased Edmund was pacing up and down in front of him, hands on his hips._

"_What was that just now, Peter? Are you out of your mind?"_

_Peter crossed his arms and frowned darkly. What right did his little brother have to interfere in his affairs?_

"_It's none of your business. He bumped into me and didn't apologise. I was going to teach him a lesson. Why did you stop me?"_

_Edmund came to stand before him, staring at him disbelievingly._

"_Why did I stop you?! _You_ tell me why you wanted to start a fight over such a little thing! It was nothing! He bumped into you, it was a simple mistake! You can't pummel him for this!"_

_The rage was still there, raising its ugly head again, and Peter's voice got steadily louder until he was yelling at his brother._

"_You have no right to tell me what I can or can't do! Who do you think you are?!"_

_Edmund gave a sharp laugh._

"_Who indeed! I'm your brother, and as such I have every right to set your head straight! Especially when you behave like a complete moron!"_

_Peter clenched his fists at his sides, breathing heavily, his control hanging by the barest threads._

"_Take that back! He should have apologised! I _demand_ that much respect!"_

_Edmund deflated slightly, a searching, pleading look entering his eyes._

"_What's wrong Peter? You're not yourself, you haven't been for months. Won't you finally tell me what's wrong? Why are so furious over such insignificant things?"_

_Peter couldn't think clearly, everything was muddled. He just knew that there was another one who didn't listen to him anymore, didn't take him seriously. How could Edmund question his actions?_

"_Nothing's wrong! I just don't like people treating me like dirt!"_

_Edmund's gaze turned incredulous._

"_Peter, that's ridiculous! Do you even hear yourself talking? Do you think Aslan would approve of your behaviour? Do you think it's worthy of the High King of Narnia?"_

_And Peter snapped. A red haze descended over his vision, mocking, scornful voices echoing in his head. _'... ridiculous, Pevensie...', '...insolence...', '...and act your age...' _He had never known such a fury. Everything faded away, leaving only this feeling of bitter resentment and immeasurable anger that wanted to lash out..._

_The red mist began to recede, and Peter could __think clearly again. What had just happened? His gaze travelled to the ground. There his brother sat, eyes wide in heartbreaking shock and disbelief, a world of pain swirling through them, pressing his hand to his cheek, where an angry bruise was even now forming._

_Peter stumbled back, horrified. Icy tendrils were running down his spine. He didn't... he couldn't have... But he did. He obviously could. He had just hit his brother. Peter started shaking like a leaf, grabbing onto a chair for support. What had he done? What had he become? Tears started to burn behind his eyes, and he wanted to do something, say something ... anything. But he couldn't. _

_And all the while Edmund was watching him with this incomparable expression full of sorrow, resignation and helplessness. His eyes were suspiciously bright, but he did not move an inch, did not say a word._

_Peter could not bear it anymore. An onslaught of guilt was almost suffocating him, and so he turned and ran. Leaving a brother whose outstreched arm fell bonelessly to his side, Peter's name dying on his lips..._

I come out of my memories, tears running unchecked down my cheeks. I can still feel the horror, the agony. I'm still shying away from the terrifying realisation that I am capable of viciously hitting the most important person in my life. I would do anything to change things, to prevent what happened that day. But I cannot, and I will have to live with this guilt that is still crushing me from time to time.

This was the one occurence where we actually had a more or less profound talk. After I had calmed down a bit. Even in the state I was in during the past year, I could not have lived with _that_ hanging unresolved between me and Edmund. So we talked. I think it was one of the hardest conversations we have ever had because I was still refusing to tell him what was going on inside me. But I apologised, repented, and he forgave me.

It is still something I can hardly comprehend. He simply forgave me. He did not raise his voice, did not demand more of an explanation, did not say any words to make me feel guilty – which I already did, anyway. I would have deserved his anger, his scorn, everything that he could have flung at me. But he did nothing of the sort.

Why did I not see it then? Why did I not see how desperately he was reaching out to me, how he wanted to help me? I was so blind, so stupid...

I can't begin to thank Aslan enough for what he did for me. I can finally see clearly again. And I am finally ready to talk to Edmund. I think we have waited long enough. We have fought for Narnia, have released her and set her on the path to healing. Now it is time to heal our relationship once and for all. I will not leave this inn before everything is out in the open between me and Edmund...

I get up from the bed, but before I am even halfway across the room, there is a knock at my door.

"Enter."

Who could it be? Shouldn't everyone be sleeping by now? The door opens slowly, a head crowned with midnight-black hair peering cautiously into the room. He once again read my thoughts.

"Pete? Can we..."

Then he obivously notices my tear-streaked face because he swiftly steps in, closing the door behind him and crossing the distance between us. Alarm spreads over his features.

"Peter? What's wrong? Did something happen?"

I can only shake my head mutely, reaching out and drawing him into my arms. I do not want to ever let him go again, I have missed him so much. He sighs, then wraps his arms around me, too, burying his head in my chest.

"Please, Pete! Tell me what it is. I want to help you."

He sounds so hesitant, as if he thinks I would throw him out any moment, and not without reason I have to admit. I have been simply terrible. How can I ever begin to make amends?

"Just some memories, Ed. Nothing to worry about."

But of course he does because I feel him stiffen slightly, then he pushes back and looks up into my face.

"What kind of memories?"

His intense dark gaze blurs before me and is replaced by the wide eyes full of shock and hurt. I do not want to remember this, do not want to think about what I did, but I have to tell him, I promised myself I would tell him everything now. So I turn away and stride over to the desk, leaning on it. Perhaps it will be easier to say when I do not look at him...

"I was thinking about ... about last autumn. When I ... when I... Oh Ed! I'm such a monster! How could I ever..."

But I am not allowed to continue. A fierce hand yanks me around and then I am staring into Edmund's blazing eyes.

"Stop that! We talked about that, didn't we? Yes, you hit me. Yes, I was hurt. But you apologised, and I forgave you. Do you think it helps me when you're consumed by guilt?"

I, however, am not yet ready to let it go.

"I can't just forget it happened, Ed! I can't forget what I did to you. What does that say about me, that I'm capable of hitting my own brother?!"

Edmund's voice has risen a bit, and he has now grabbed my shoulders and is shaking me. He seems to be almost desperate, and I feel something in me give way.

"You were not yourself, Peter! I still don't understand it, but I can tell you, that wasn't who you are. It doesn't say anything about you. You're still the best brother in the whole world. I'm not saying you should forget it, but you have to forgive yourself!"

Forgive myself? Somehow that is a very strange concept to me. How can I forgive myself when I did something so utterly horrible? Tears are trickling down my face again.

"I don't think I can, or that I should. Perhaps I should bear the guilt, to remind me..."

Now he is truly angry. His grip on my shoulders tightens almost painfully.

"Have you ever thought about the possibility that this attitude of yours hurts me even more than what you did? Not to speak of disobeying Aslan's wishes, of course."

I am brought up short by his words. I do not want to hurt him...

"What do you mean?"

He lets go of me and sits down on the edge of the bed, burying his head in his hands.

"Do you know what Aslan told me that morning after I was rescued from the Witch? He forgave me everything, my beastliness and my treason and at least a million other things. I could hardly believe it, after everything I'd done. And then he said that now no one was allowed to ever accuse me of these things anymore, not even myself. Believe me, that was so hard to do because I still felt so rotten and guilty. But then I thought I'd be dishonouring Aslan's forgiveness if I continued to think so meanly of myself. Do you know what I mean?"

It's as if a veil is drawn back. Of course, Aslan told me the exact same thing in the chamber of the Stone Table, but somehow I could not apply it to myself. It makes so much sense. If I cling to my guilt and insist on feeling so wretched, I am making Edmund miserable as well. And that is the last thing I want to do, I have done enough of it in the past. I think it might still take some time, but perhaps now I can let go.

I stumble to the bed and let myself fall onto it, burying my head in the pillows. Edmund's hand is there, rubbing soothing circles on my back. Did I ever tell him how grateful I am that he is my brother?

"Thanks Ed."

He chuckles softly.

"No problem. That's what I'm here for. I thought... I thought we might talk now. But if you're tired that's alright..."

I shake my head.

"No, I want to talk. There are so many things I have to tell you..."

But I don't know where to start and fall silent. Edmund's hand has stilled.

"I just want to know what happened, Pete. I want to understand you. I want to understand why you were so angry all the time. I can only be there for you if you let me in, you know?"

Of course I know. And I want him to know everything as well. Although it will not be easy. I wonder if I can even put everything I felt into words. I sit up and lean against the wall. I want to look at him while I am talking.

"When we got back, I was completely numb for a time. I thought it was all just a dream, and we'd wake up any moment and be back at Cair Paravel. And then, when it finally sunk in, I thought it was all my fault. Because I had let you pursue the White Stag so far into the Western Woods."

Edmund stares at me disbelievingly, his mouth slightly opened.

"But Peter! That's ridiculous! As if you could've foreseen what would happen! It was Aslan's will that we went back to England!"

I cringe. It really sounds stupid.

"I know that now. But then, I simply couldn't bear it. I couldn't look you and Susan and Lucy in the eyes without thinking I'd failed you somehow. And I was so angry with Aslan. I felt betrayed. I felt as if he didn't want me anymore and had sent me away just like that when I became useless. Narnia was my home and I felt as if I had been uprooted and thrust into chaos. I didn't understand anything anymore."

Edmund's eyes fill with sympathy and he reaches out to grasp one of my hands in his own.

"Pete! I had no idea! Why didn't you talk to us? Susan and Lucy and I, we were all so sad, and we missed Narnia desperately, but at least we had each other. I can't count the times we sat together in the dark, holding each other and simply crying. We wanted you there so much. We missed you. But you always blocked."

This is so hard. It is hard to see how much hurt I caused them, caused Edmund, but I know it is important to get through this to healing.

"I couldn't, Ed. You always reminded me of what I had lost, and then I became so angry. I had been a king, High King over all of Narnia. And now I was forced into being a child again, treated with condescension and never taken seriously, at least that's how I saw it. Sometimes I truly hated all the adults, even Mum, because I felt they held nothing but disdain for me and did not respect me."

Somehow it feels good to express everything out loud finally. Bit by bit the burden is lifted from my shoulders. Edmund has scooted over to sit next to me, still holding my hand and stroking it lightly.

"Lion's Mane, Pete! I always knew you liked to make it as difficult as possible for yourself. How much you must've hurt! Go on."

I have to smile slightly. He truly has a talent for lightening even the sombrest of moods.

"Yes, well. Then we went back to school, and it was as if everything was falling apart. The girls were at another school, and you were in another class. I felt so helpless, I couldn't protect you anymore because you simply weren't there. And that made me so furious. I was the High King. I was supposed to be in control. I don't know. I felt like a leaf that was tossed around in a storm. There was nothing to hold onto. No one I could relate to anymore. You were gone, out of reach, and my friends were all little boys I had nothing in common with anymore. It hurt so much. And I didn't want it to hurt, so I pushed it away and concentrated on the anger. Because that was safe. When I was angry, I could do something, even if it was only lashing out."

I do not know how it happened, but I am now leaning on Edmund's shoulder, my face buried in his neck and crying. He holds me, and I realise he is trembling.

"Why did you never tell me? Or even give me a hint? Why did you push me away? I wanted to help you, wanted to be there for you. But you never let me. I missed you so much. I needed you, but you were so far away."

His voice is choked and I know he is crying, too. Now comes one of the hardest parts.

"I wanted to prove to myself and to everyone else that I could manage on my own. I wanted to prove that I was still strong, still in control. You don't know how sorry I am for not seeing what I did, for not seeing you were hurting, too. I think it was mostly because... because... Ed, I was so envious of you."

I peer up into his face and see sheer astonishment written there, his tears still falling silently.

"What?! Why would you be envious of me?!"

I am blushing now and hide by pressing into him again, my arms around him tightening.

"I felt so inferior next to you. You were handling everything so well, you were being so kingly, even in dull and grey England. You were always calm, no matter how much we were treated as stupid children. And you remained loyal to me, no matter how unbearable I was. I simply couldn't cope with it. Everytime I pushed you away, I felt guilty and couldn't even look at you. And you were still there which made me feel even more guilty and then I pushed you away more so I didn't have to think about it, and then I felt guilty again..."

I think I am talking in circles, but I do not care. He has to know this. I want to clear up everything that is between us. He is still regarding me with this expression of incredulous surprise, and I wonder if I've said something wrong. Then he starts laughing amidst his tears and presses a kiss to my forehead.

"Oh Pete! Only you! You know me best, you know I'm not some kind of saint. If you'd only said one word, I would have told you that I was as miserable as you were. I missed Narnia just as much, was just as frustrated to be treated like a child again. But you _do_ have this tendency to put me on a pedastal sometimes, though the Lion knows why. So perhaps I shouldn't be that surprised. As for feeling guilty... If it helps, I'm not angry with you. I could see you were hurting, even though I couldn't understand you."

I feel a bit foolish now. He is right of course. I should have known that he was just as sad to be flung out of Narnia. But I was so wrapped up in myself...

"But the fact remains that you managed to cope better than me. How did you do it?"

He looks thoughtful for a moment, as if he is weighing his words carefully.

"Peter, were we kings because we were wearing a crown?"

I blink in confusion. What a strange question!

"Of course not! We were kings because we cared for Narnia, because Aslan entrusted us with her well-being."

He gazes into my eyes solemnly, and I know what he is going to say will be important.

"Exactly. The crown doesn't make the king. And as long as I remembered that, I could still be a king, even in England. It didn't matter how I was treated, just how I reacted to it. You know, I was lying awake one night, just after we'd come back to Mum, and I was so frustrated because she wouldn't let me fetch the ration marks by myself. And I thought I had two options. I could either resent this treatment and become bitter and angry, just as I'd been before... well, everything. Or I could accept it as another task Aslan had given me. And I chose this. I didn't understand, but I decided to trust that He had a plan."

I can only marvel at the incredible special person my little brother is. He should have been called the Wise on top of the Just. It makes so much sense. Why could I not see it before? How could I have forgotten everything that Narnia had taught me? We had experienced countless times that it was our actions that defined us as kings, not our castle, our royal garments or our crowns... I groan in embarrassment.

"I feel so stupid, Ed. I don't understand myself anymore. The past year seems to be so far away just now. As if it was a completely other person living my life. I think I was truly walking around with a blindfold over my eyes."

I sit up, wiping my eyes and trying to get a bit of my control back. Edmund makes a sympathetic noise and hands me a handkerchief.

"Believe me, I know how that feels. You're looking at this other person, and all you're thinking is, 'Has this really been me? How could it come to this?' I can understand you perfectly. And this was also the reason why you were so strange when we got back here? Feeling guilty?"

I nod, then shake my head. That is not all there is to it.

"In part. It was such a shock to not recognise Narnia when we came here. Seeing Cair Paravel in ruins... I think it almost broke my heart. I'd come back, but nothing was as I remembered it. The trees were silent, no one of our good Cousins was around. And I felt as if I had abandoned them. As if it was my fault that Narnia had gone to ruin. I know, I know now it was irrational..."

I try to turn away, but Edmund will not let me, holding my chin so that I have to look at him.

"There's more to this, Pete. Tell me!"

Of course there is more, but I do not like it. I still feel bad about it. But Edmund is insistent, and I know I cannot resist him. Despite everything it feels so good to talk about this.

"I was furious that I couldn't orient myself. I'd known every tree, every rock in these woods, and now there was nothing. And I was furious when Lucy said she'd seen Aslan. _I_ wanted to lead us to the How. _I _wanted to be in control, wanted to make things right again. I alone. I wanted to prove to everyone that I was still the High King, that I could cope with everything and lead us to victory."

I've clenched my fists so tightly that the knuckles turn white, and Edmund gently pries them apart.

"Why do you always have to be so bloody stubborn, Pete? We were all there, just waiting to help and support you. You didn't have to do it alone. But I can understand that you felt out of place. It was such a shock to see Narnia like this, so foreign and strange."

I nod and flop back down onto the bed, shielding my eyes with my arm.

"Yes, and then there was Caspian. To be honest, I resented him at first. It seemed as if he was about to take my rightful place away from me. As if I was being replaced because I had failed Narnia. I felt as if no one needed me anymore. There was Caspian who would become king. And you were the hero anyway who was there for everyone and knew what was right. And so I tried everything to show that I was still the rightful High King, to prove that I was not useless. And it turned into an even greater failure... So many died in the raid. And all because of my stupidity. You could also have... If the gryffin hadn't been there at the right moment..."

I choke back a sob. I wonder how much you can cry before you run dry... Edmund is pulling on my arm now.

"Sit up! I want you to look at me!"

So I sit up again, glancing at him warily. He sounded so fierce just now, and his eyes hold a peculiar mixture of boundless affection and exasperation.

"First of all: I'm no hero, I'm not always knowing what's right, and I make mistakes just as everyone else. I'd thank you not to forget that again. And then: How dare you say that you're useless, that we'd not need you? Have you forgotten..."

He takes my hand and kisses it, and my breath catches at the solemnity of his gaze.

"I will to thee be true and faithful, and love all which thou lovest and shun all which thou shunst, according to the laws of Aslan and the order of Narnia. Nor will I ever with will or action, through word or deed, do anything which is unpleasing to thee, on condition that thou willst hold to me as I shall deserve it, and that thou willst perform everything as it was in our agreement when I submitted myself to thee and chose thy will. Whither thou goest, I will follow, and where thou lodgest, I will stay. Where thou diest, will I die, too, and there will I be buried. The Lion do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me. Thus do I swear in the name of Aslan, and in the name of the Emperor-beyond-the-Sea.

"I'd never renege on my oath, Peter. You'll always be my High King, my liege lord, no matter what happens. No one could ever replace you. Don't you dare forget that again. And anyway, didn't Aslan tell us, 'Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen'? You will always be King Peter the Magnificent."

Tears are shimmering in both our eyes. His words pierce my soul, and I am left breathless with admiration for my brother. I do not deserve him. Especially because I definitely have broken our oath. I have not held him as he deserved it, I've treated him abominably. But I will not wallow in self-pity, I am done with that. As Ed has rightly said, it helps no one if I bury myself in guilt. So I will do what my heart demands me to do, what I have planned to do since my talk with Aslan.

I get up from the bed and kneel down in front of him, taking his hands and pressing them to my forehead.

"Edmund, I know I have made many mistakes in the past year, and I regret every single one of them. I have hurt you, I have pushed you away when you wanted to help me, I have neglected you when you needed me, and I have disregarded everything we learned as kings in Narnia. I have spurned your devotion and loyalty, I chose to be bitter and resentful, and I have thus brought much pain to you, whom I hold most dear. I can only lay all this at your feet and tell you that I am more sorry than I can say. I know I don't deserve it, but I beg your forgiveness. Please, Ed, please forgive me. I need you, I've missed you so much."

For a moment the room is completely silent, the only thing I hear is his erratic breathing, the only thing I feel are his trembing hands.

Then I am knocked onto my back with a sobbing Edmund in my arms, clinging to me desperately and shaking like a leaf. I simply hold him, he probably needs this as much as I did earlier. So I rock him slightly, humming an old Narnian lullaby he always loved to hear when he woke up from another nightmare.

After a while his sobs subside, and he rests quietly on my chest. Then he pushes himself up and looks straight into my eyes.

"I forgive you, Peter. Yes, I was hurt very much by your actions. Yes, I felt abandoned when you didn't let me close anymore. And I was sometimes so angry when you pushed me away. But I want to let that rest in the past now. Everything you've told me shall not burden you any longer, and it shall not stand between us anymore. I hope you belive me, and I hope you'll stop heaping all that guilt on you. _I forgive you_."

A whole mountain range is lifted from my heart, and I crush him to me again, laughing and crying at the same time. I feel free, the last of the walls that were around me and between us is broken down. I have my brother back, my best friend, my confidant, the other half of my soul.

The only thing I can say is 'thank you', over and over again.

I do not know how long we are lying on the ground, holding each other, but eventually we get up and he settles on the bed again. I fetch a handkerchief and wipe his tears away, and Edmund laughs softly.

"We truly are a pair, aren't we?"

I can only smile in response, then sit down next to him. He leans his head on my shoulder, and I put my arm around him.

"Now tell me the rest, Pete. What happened? Suddenly you were back to yourself."

That is a part I will gladly talk about. I am still filled with overwhelming gratefulness when I just think about it.

"Aslan happened, Ed. After... after the incident with the Witch He talked to me. He forgave me my anger and my defiance and set me on the right path again. He truly opened my eyes."

Edmund nods against my neck.

"I already guessed something like that. I'm so happy that He was there for you, and that He helped you out of your pain. I don't think anyone else could have done it."

I can only agree. I was already so far gone... But there is one last issue I have to mention, otherwise I will not be able to have complete peace.

"Ed, about the Witch... I'm sorry. You must have been so disappointed in me and so angry. After everything she had done, I was about to free her. I can't even imagine what you..."

But he puts a hand over my mouth and effectively silences me.

"Neither nor, Pete. I know her powers best, I know she's a master of temptation and persuasion. I have been where you were, and therefore I could never blame or accuse you. I only wanted to help you, to protect you. I'd have done anything to free you."

I have to admit I am a bit confused now.

"But... but you said... And I thought..."

And now it seems to be Edmund's turn to be bewildered because he looks at me uncomprehendingly.

"What do you mean? What did I say?"

My thoughts are a bit messed up. Did I miss something? He was there, wasn't he?

"Don't you remember? You said, 'I know, you had it sorted.' And I thought you were so disappointed because I could not resist her."

His eyes widen, and he starts slapping his forehead repeatedly, mumbling something that sounds like 'idiot' under his breath.

"I'm so, so sorry, Pete. You know how I get when I feel overwhelmed. I'd just gotten the first glimpse of what was truly inside you, and then you looked as if you were about to cry. I just wanted to get out. I didn't know what I said. Just my luck it was something to hurt you. I'm sorry."

I do feel stupid now. I could have realised that. I should have believed that I had not imagined the moment between us. Or I could have thought about all the other instances where he said something without being aware of it. But it is not important anymore.

"It's alright, Ed. There was no harm done. And it's as much my fault. I could've known it, I was just too befuddled to think clearly."

He chuckles and slaps my arm lightly, but turning serious again in an instant.

"Peter, do you want to tell me what the Witch said to you? I imagine it was something awful, and I know how her words can linger, cropping up at the oddest moments and stabbing you in the back."

His eyes have darkened, and a slightly haunted look has entered them. I tighten my arm around him, and he scoots closer until he is almost sitting in my lap. I once again wonder if he has truly told me everything that happened all those years ago – or was it just one? – in _her_ castle...

"I'm not thinking about it anymore. As I said, Aslan helped me out of it. She basically told me that I was completely unworthy and only making mistakes. That Aslan would never hear me or come to my help. And I believed her, Ed. For those minutes before Aslan appeared to me I believed her. I truly was a blockhead."

Edmund shakes his head vigorously and winds his arms tightly around my waist.

"No, anyone would fall to her voice. And you were vulnerable at the time. No one blames you for it. Everyone makes mistakes. You mustn't be so hard on yourself. And just to remind you, you're an incredibly special person, Peter. There's no one like you and I'm thankful every day that you're my brother."

I think I am blushing again. He always manages to fluster me when he says things like that.

"And do you know how grateful _I_ am that _you_ are my brother? I don't know what I'd do without you, Ed. Thank you, for everything."

He sighs contentedly, and I drop a kiss into his dark curls. I finally feel whole again, and at peace.

We are sitting there for a long time, simply happy to be together again, and I almost think that Edmund has fallen asleep when his voice reaches my ears.

"Peter? Are you truly alright with Caspian becoming king now?"

The question is a bit strange, I thought I had made that clear.

"Yes, of course. He will be a good king, I'm sure. And I think we get along alright now. Why do you ask?"

He shifts a bit, and I can practically feel his grin against my neck.

"Oh, no reason. It's just that now the chance of you murdering him before our stay is over is much smaller. If you like him, I mean. Although... If I think about it, you might like him decidedly less in about... perhaps three or four days."

Alright, he has officially lost me now. What is he talking about? Why should I like Caspian less? I glance at his face, and he looks exactly like the cat that just ate the canary. I have the very strong suspicion that he is having me on, but I cannot help being curious where he is going to take this line of conversation.

"And why is that? Does he have some deep, dark secret that you are about to reveal to me?"

He shrugs carelessly and smirks in this infuriatingly smug manner of his.

"Perhaps you should ask Susan."

Why is he constantly changing the topic? I want to know what is going on!

"What's Susan got to do with my relationship to Caspian?"

And why do I get the feeling that I have stepped right into his trap?

"Everything, brother dear. Why, it's obvious that they fancy each other, and I thought that might concern you as well."

. . .

I think I have just experienced a complete blackout. My mouth hangs open, and I can only gape. Edmund starts laughing uncontrollably and once again buries his head in my chest.

"What?! Why?! ... Where? ... How..... What?!?!"

He is hiccoughing now, and I feel quite uncharitable, so I give him a hard shove and he topples onto the mattress, still laughing loudly.

"Oh Pete! Your face! You should've seen your face! You honestly didn't notice?"

Of course I did not! Does he think I would react like this if I knew?! How in the Lion's name did _that_ happen? Edmund is wiping his eyes, now sitting cross-legged on my pillow.

"You always needed a sign in extra-large when someone had any romantic interests in Susan or Lucy. It was so obvious, Pete. Didn't you see all those glances? He was driving me crazy during the duel with his staring up at Susan instead of watching the Telmarines. And his undertone when we met! 'I expected something different.' Probably someone older and much less attractive. They've been flirting almost the whole time since our meeting in the woods. Everyone knew it, even Lucy."

He breaks into fresh peals of laughter, and I am completely stunned. I never would have guessed it. I did not suspect a thing... And I do not think I like it.

"I'd thank you to stop laughing. What should we do now?"

I nudge his knee repeatedly, and he finally stops, regarding me with what definitely is not real compassion.

"Nothing, Pete. I just wanted you to know what is going on. So that you are not shocked out of your wits when... Well, let's say when they decide to act on their attraction."

Excuse me?! Something must be wrong with my ears, surely he did not just say that... No one is going to act on anything while I am around. Susan hardly knows him and ... and just because.

"But ... but Ed! We just met him and... and they're so young ... and anyway!"

Edmund crawls over to me and settles against me again, patting my cheek consolingly.

"Don't worry, Peter. Susan's a big girl. You know you can trust her, right? You know she'd never do anything stupid. I truly only wanted you to be aware of it, so that you didn't have a nasty surprise."

I sigh. He is right of course, I tend to overreact in matters such as these. And I would not want to cause a scene. I grudingly have to admit it is a good thing that Edmund told. I mean, at least he is no Rabadash... You have to be thankful for small favours.

We lapse into silence again, I am simply contend to have him here with me. After some minutes he starts yawning widely, and I abruptly remember what an exhausting, emotionally-charged day he must have had. First the challenge, then the duel and the battle, and now our talk...

My protective big-brother side rises, and it is saying that my little brother should sleep now.

"Ed, we should go to bed, don't you think? You're almost asleep sitting here."

He does not even protest, a true mark of his tiredness, and gets up unsteadily, swaying slightly. I reach out to steady him, and he smiles at me, blinking a few times.

"You're right. I'm completely knackered. I'll just go to my room. Night Pete."

I am momentarily surprised by the stab of hurt that shoots through me. I was sure he would stay here... I follow him towards the door, trying to reason with myself. It's silly, really. He probably needs some time to himself, it was a lot after all.

As if sensing what is running through my head, he turns around again and hugs me tightly.

"I love you, Pete."

My heart is sure to burst any moment as I enfold him in my arms. I treasure every instance he says something like this because I know it is sometimes difficult for him. We have come so far since we entered Narnia again, and especially in the past few hours.

"I love you, too, Ed."

He smiles at me brilliantly, pure happiness dancing in his eyes, and in this instant I vow to myself that I will never again do something to make him lose this smile... He reaches up and kisses my cheek soundly, lingering for a moment, then stepping out of my embrace.

"Goodnight, Peter. Sleep well."

The door closes behind him, and I sink onto the bed again, physically and mentally drained. I think this day has been one of the most exhausting I have ever experienced. I know I should sleep, but I am not sure if I can just yet. So much has happened. We have defeated the Telmarines, Narnia is saved, Aslan has saved _me_, and I am reconciled with the person I love most.

I will never be able to thank Aslan enough for what he has done for me. After more than a year of being lost, of drifting around, He has anchored me again. To Himself, to Edmund and to the very core of my being. It was a hard way, one I hope I will never have to walk again, but perhaps it was worth it in the end. I have learned more about Aslan, and my trust in Him is now much stronger. And I feel closer to Edmund than ever before, if that is even possible. Everything in my world is right once more.

I am dozing, being unable to sleep, when I hear the most loving voice whispering gently in my heart.

"Well done, my child. I am proud of you. Do not forget that I will always be with you, wherever you go."

***********************************************************************************************************************************************

I'm bone-tired, can barely keep my eyes open, but I can't sleep. I'm still so restless and giddy. I wonder how my body can contain all the emotion. I don't know what I should feel first, happiness or relief or thankfulness or... I can't say.

I was so anxious when I knocked on Peter's door, although I was sure he wanted to talk as much as I did. But then, when I saw the tears on his face, all my nervousness flew out of the window, and I just wanted to know what was wrong. I think he truly told me everything. And it was good that we got it all out in the open, it was even good that we talked again about that incident where he hit me. I should've known it would haunt him awfully. I meant what I said, he wasn't himself at the time, and after everything I've just heard from him, I can hold it against him even less.

I'm not saying it was right or anything, but he must've been hurting so much, I'm not sure if I can imagine it. I was also confused, missing Narnia so much that it was a physical ache sometimes, but I had Susan and Lucy to talk to or to simply hold. And I still had Aslan. It was hard, but I managed to trust in Him, and I think He gave me strength, even if I didn't notice it.

But Peter... He obviously didn't have anything. He pushed us away, and he must've been so angry at Aslan, from what I can tell. In a way I can understand it. It must've been unbearable for him, going back to being a child. He, who always was our rock, our protector.

I think the most surprising thing for me was when he told me of his envy. I never would've expected something like this as one of the reasons why he was so unapproachable. And it's strange. He's the one I look up to, he's my role model, I admire him more than anyone else. And then he says that _he_ is envious of_ me_! I can only shake my head at the irony. But it's also great to know that he's proud of me, that there are things about me he admires as well. We truly complement one another...

My thoughts are a bit muddled and I lie down on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I don't believe we've ever had a conversation that was this emotionally-charged. We were yelling and crying and laughing. Everything together. We could talk about everything, there were no barriers between us anymore. And I feel that we could clear up some things that have stood between us for a long time. This guilt he spoke about, because he could not protect us, I think he didn't only mean the last year, but was talking about something from a long time ago, at least in Narnian years. I noticed this when I talked about the Witch. He still seemed to feel guilty about not protecting me at Beruna and before. Although he could've done nothing about it as it was completely out of his control. I hope I managed to free him from this.

I feel as if the bond between us has grown even stronger. There's a new, deeper understanding, and I don't think anyone will ever be able to destroy this again. The past year was one of the worst I've ever had, but perhaps it was necessary so that we could reach this stage in our relationship. It was a long way, but I think we've both learned valuable lessons. I'll never again take Peter or what we have for granted, now that I know what it is like to lose it. And I've learned to trust where I can't see. To trust in Aslan and his guidance, even when I can't understand or see his plans.

And I can only thank Him on my knees that He gave me Peter as a brother. I don't know what I'd do without him, he keeps me balanced, he understands me, he's there for me always. But he's also the one who can stop me when I go into the wrong direction, who can challenge me when I am thinking or speaking nonsense. He's truly the other half of my soul.

And isn't a brother also born for adversity? At least I think I read that somewhere. It would make sense after all. Who but my brother would protect me even from myself?

I thank Aslan once again for Peter and for our relationship. It's a blessing and a gift, and also hard work. But it is worth everything.

I'm so tired, I can barely keep my eyes open, and I just want to sleep. I snuggle deeper into the covers, but I still can't drop off, something is missing. And when the door opens silently I know what it is...

A few moments later the mattress dips in slightly and fingers start gently carressing my hair. It's so soothing, and I feel safe and protected. Then a low voice whispers in my ear.

"Scoot over, will you, Ed? Did you really think I would let you sleep alone tonight?"

I do as he says and smile drowsily. I should have known he would come, especially after what we've gone through in the past few hours. He settles under the covers and then draws me close to him. I cuddle up to him, laying my head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat. I feel as if I'm completely wrapped up in warmth and tenderness and love. I'm near sleep within seconds. This is what I needed. But there's a last thing I have to tell him.

"Pete?"

It's a wonder he can hear me at all, I must be mumbling awfully.

"Yes, Eddy?"

Eddy – it's been a long time since he called me that. It's nice... So caring.... What did I want to say?... Ah yes!

"Pete, you're... you're the best big brother in the world, you know that, right? Right. You're everything to me... Love you..."

Then I drift off, feeling his kiss on my forehead, his voice leading me into my dreams.

"I couldn't live without you, Ed. You're my all and I'll never leave you like that again... Love you, too."

Peace spreads through my whole being, and I know deep down that I've regained what I'd been missing for the past year. Because my High King, my big brother, my best friend – my _Peter_ is here again, right next to me.

This is home, and I am finally where I belong.

And in my heart of hearts I hear the faint, approving echo of a lion's roar.

The End

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_How the king rejoices in your strength, o Lord! How he exults in your salvation. For you have given him his heart's desire, everything he asks you for! – Psalms 21, 1-2_

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That's it. Only the epilogue is missing. Please tell me how you liked it. I was feeling quite insecure about the conversation and of course the flashback. :) For your information: The "discussion" Peter has with his teacher is about the Gunpowder Plot and quite true. Part of the term paper I just finished was about this topic... And the oath Edmund recites is an Anglo-Saxon Oath of Fealty that I modified slightly, combined with words from Ruth 1, 16-17.


	8. Be Strong and of Good Courage

**Disclaimer:** Still nothing is mine. All belongs to the great C. S. Lewis and Disney.

I can't believe that I've left this hanging for so long. My muse completely abandoned me and I didn't write anything during the whole of this year. Somehow the prospect of the new movie made me turn back to it, and I hope you'll like it. Enjoy!

**Epilogue  
Be Strong and of Good Courage **

Everything has happened so fast now, and I think I cannot fully comprehend it all and have also not yet fully arrived here. We are back in England again, on the train that will bring us to school, and I feel a bit strange. Not a bad strange, but still. Just as it happened when we returned for the first time, no time has passed here at all, and still everything is different now. The person sitting in this train is not the person that arrived at the train station an hour ago. Or is it a week? The concept of travelling between Narnia and our world will probably always remain a mystery to me.

I am glad that Edmund and I have a compartment to ourselves which gives me the opportunity to somehow try and sort my thoughts. Edmund has dropped off to sleep almost immediately, he has gone through so much and his exhaustion was clear for everyone to see. I wonder if I had been able to bear everything he did had our roles been reversed. If he had pushed me away, had been as obnoxious as I have been… I think we would have come to blows within a week. I know we have talked through everything, but I still have to cringe when I think about the past year. Edmund would now probably kindly tell me that it is my bloody impatience coming through and that true healing takes time. I am slowly coming to accept that, and – what is perhaps more important – to believe it.

It is very quiet, the silence only disturbed by Edmund's slow breathing, and my thoughts turn to the last day, the last few hours. I have known of course that we would have to return to England eventually, but when the moment arrived it was different from how I had imagined it to be. Riding through the streets of the city with my siblings and Caspian and all those who had fought loyally and valiantly with us was a truly breathtaking and unforgettable experience. For just a short while it felt as if nothing had changed, as if we were simply returning from a campaign and being greeted by our faithful subjects. But reality soon caught up with me. The castle was not Cair Paravel, the crowd was made up of more humans than Animals and even our gowns were different. It is strange, but I knew then that we would not be staying for much longer, and while I was sad that I would not be able to see Narnia returned to her full glory, I was somehow serene in the knowledge that I would leave her in Caspian's capable hands. When we crowned him in the courtyard I could sense very vividly that I was handing over my sceptre to him. I will always be High King, I do not doubt Aslan or His word, but this moment had a sense of finality about it that I still cannot really describe. And for just a blink of eternity I saw some hazy images, woven together like a tapestry. An elegant ship with a dragon's head and a purple sail. Impossibly tall mountains, blazing in a light so bright I wanted to close my eyes. A woman robed in green. A donkey and a monkey in a little stable. Rising oceans and falling stars.

I did not understand what I was seeing, but then Susan and I had a long conversation with Aslan. I am still amazed at everything he told us, sad though it was in parts. We are not returning to Narnia, 'not in your lifetime' were Aslan's exact words. I am surprised that I am not more disheartened by this, I truly must have known somewhere deep down that this would happen. Perhaps Aslan has been preparing me for this silently, without my knowledge, since our encounter at the Stone Table. I cannot help wondering how I would have reacted had I received this news last week or even a few days ago. I believe I would have fallen into a raging fury, lashing out at everything in the vicinity and destroying more than I could have repaired. And I once again have to humbly acknowledge that Aslan's timing is always perfect. For now I feel just a comforting calm and acceptance, even some anticipation, however bizarre that may sound.

Aslan told us that we have learned all Narnia could teach us, and while I would have liked to protest this statement quite vehemently, I knew that He was right, that it would have just been my desire to stay. I do not think I am even aware of everything Narnia has taught me. I have not only learned to be a ruler, how to lead a country and a people, but also how to be a man people can rely on and trust, whom they can turn to. I have learned to be generous and prudent in equal measures, when to speak and when to be silent, when to show mercy and when to enact justice. And most importantly I have learned who I am in Aslan's eyes. I had forgotten this lesson during the last year, but Aslan reminded me of it again. I do not have to prove anything to Him because He knows me better than I do myself anyway. He knows all of my strengths and weaknesses and never expects more of me than I can manage. That thought is truly liberating, and it is also the reason why I am confident that I will be able to fulfil the task He set before us, to come closer to our own world. He has faith in me to cope now, to not fall back to the state I was in after our first return and to lead an upright life in a manner befitting the High King of Narnia in accordance with His wishes. I know I can do this, trusting in Him and in myself and accepting the help of those closest to me.

I glance over at Edmund, he is still sleeping peacefully, and I have to smile. I have not yet told him what Aslan said to Susan and me, things just happened too fast after our conversation and we were back at the train station almost before we could blink. But as soon as we arrive at the school I will talk to him about what has transpired. I have felt his curious eyes upon me a number of times, even though he tried to hide it. I hope he does not think I am trying to shut him out again, nothing could be further from the truth. He is my anchor, he is my balance and I know he will understand and support me.

I cannot restrain myself and lean forward slightly, gently running my fingers through his hair. He truly is the best brother in the world and I cannot imagine my life without him. We have come such a long way from the times when our only mode of communication was yelling, when every other word was an insult. Now he is my best friend, my confidant, the one person in the world I would not hesitate baring my complete soul to. I would do anything for Edmund, and I know the same holds true for him. Again I thank Aslan for His mercy in reconciling us to each other. I do not think it would have been possible without Him and Narnia…

I have to admit to feeling wistful. No matter how much I understand Aslan and his task and trust that he is right, I will miss Narnia very much. It has been my home for more years than I have lived in England, and the thought of never seeing it again does hurt. Although I cannot help but wonder what Aslan meant when he said 'not in your lifetime'. Can we somehow return after our death? Does it have something to do with the images I saw so briefly? For I do believe now that they were glimpses of the future…

I should have asked Aslan about that, now this opportunity is gone… Or is it? His last words come back to me, that we can find him here, in our world, just under a different name. My heart beat a bit quicker at that and joy and warmth flooded me. He is here, He will not leave us alone, and He is also not abandoning us, but rather changing our relationship. I have a feeling that it can only become deeper. His voice is still ringing in my ears.

"_This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there."_

I cannot wait to start my search for Him, and I am very much looking forward to getting to know Him better. We truly only got glimpses of Him in Narnia, and I have this inkling that there is so much more to Him than we will ever be able to fathom. I wonder where I should start looking, I do not think I have ever heard something about a Lion such as Him here in our world. Perhaps Edmund might have an idea, he has become quite interested in philosophy and history.

I am brought out of my thoughts by a change in Edmund's breathing, and I look up to see his sleepy eyes blinking at me slowly. I get up from my seat and cross the compartment to sit down next to him, putting my arm around him and drawing him against my side. He rests his head on my shoulder, and I press a quick kiss to his forehead.

"Go back to sleep, Eddy. We still have more than an hour to go."

I can feel him nodding slightly, and a few minutes later he is asleep again. I turn to look out of the window, watching the trees that we are now leaving behind. Just as they are slowly disappearing into the distance, the past year slips away from me, and I know that I can lay it to rest now.

I am finally at peace.

_And one of the elders saith unto me, "Weep not: behold, the Lion of the tribe of Juda, the Root of David, hath prevailed." – Revelations 5,5

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_

And this is finally the end. I'm really sorry that it took me so long. Just as the note, one sentence was taken from _Voyage of the Dawn Treader_ Chapter 16, "The Very End of the World". I hope that someone is still reading this and that you liked it.


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